Beloved Helpless
by jaokolad
Summary: When Soul is kidnapped, an underground movement of humans is revealed, and they're after the weapons of Shibusen. Humanity rises up and the teams have to choose whether to stick to their oaths or fight those they swore to protect. SxM BlxTsu *Slight AU*
1. Ignorance

**A/N:** Despite its darkest parts, Soul Eater is rather light hearted for what the canon is: young, young teenagers acting as hit men without question or true compensation for their efforts. Black blood and insanity aside, I find that very dark. I mean, if cops on crime dramas become jaded from just arresting criminals, I can only wonder what it would do to kids who go out and actually fight and kill the scum of the earth.

I wanted to play with the canon and bring more realistic elements to it, such as cultural and social divisions between the races: humans, weapons, technicians and witches and explore how media and organized crime might change how people see each other and Shibusen if there was a dramatic shift in simple opinion.

You might consider this AU as well, taking place anywhere within the canon between the first encounter with Chrona to the assault on Arachne's Castle. I like this stretch of time because things are complicated, but not too complicated. Where we're at in the manga currently, it hurts my head trying to keep track of the million things going on at once and all the loose ends!

Anyways, enjoy. It starts off Soul and Maka centric, but will branch to other characters in other chapters. And also, of course, I don't own any of the important characters, nor do I make any sort of profit from this work.

**The Beloved Helpless…**

**Chapter One**

Her name was Amber, a name not so unordinary but yet very fitting, introduced so silently by her nametag. She had pin-straight hair that flowed like ribbons of chocolate down her thin shoulders and past her milky skin and youthful face; perfect, unmarked, unscarred and enhanced with the faintest hint of makeup. The lemonade yellow waitressing uniform she wore was soft and kind like the summers you see on laundry commercials, from the round, gentle white collar to the short skirt that hid behind the immaculate white apron she wore around her waist. In that small pizzeria, Amber had all of Soul's attention.

He and Maka had decided to go out for dinner tonight. Not a date by any means, just a lazy evening, letting the employees there take care of the cooking and cleaning for them. Maka had spent the past few minutes explaining their upcoming mission to him, but Soul clearly wasn't paying any attention. His chin rested in his broad, tanner palm, his deep red eyes fixed on the pretty little waitress across the restaurant.

Maka's mouth went dry as the corners of her lips flexed downwards into a small frown. When she looked at Amber, Maka only saw her movement, the way her cheap pizzeria uniform's skirt dared to hint at regions of her upper thigh, how her bra clearly didn't give her chest the needed support a waitress would need to provide service with any sort of decency or modesty. At the moment the 'girl' in question was talking to a bunch of kids her own age, she wasn't even on task! Why the hell did it always come down to floozy, air headed, well endowed girls that got the boys' attention? Before Maka had finished her internal rant about the lowliness of the male mind, words bubbled up from her gut and past her thin, frowning lips.

"If you like her so much, why don't you ask for her number?"

He didn't respond. It seemed he didn't even hear her. In all honesty, Soul wasn't looking at Amber, exactly. He was looking at the jacket the boy she was talking to was wearing. On the sleeve it sported the embroidery 'Death City General High' in gold over blue. Four of them sat in the booth, Amber giggling as she pretended to work. They were kids their age, just hanging out, having a good time. No more than ten feet separated their table from that booth, but it felt like miles. The world those five people were in was nothing like his own.

"Don't ignore me!" Soul's thoughts were interrupted by a clear and decisive Maka-chop to the head. "You can be so rude, practically drooling like a dog over that waitress. God, men are such pigs." The shouting matches that followed Maka-chops were always somewhat satisfying to Maka, especially since she almost always won and winning was important to her. Rather than yell back, Soul simply rubbed his head, that same dazed look in his eyes as he finally turned his gaze to his meister.

"What do you think it'd be like to be human?" He asked.

Slowly Maka lowered her book. "Human…?" The word tumbled from her lips as if it was the first time she had said it and gave the word any sort of thought. In school, they often used the term in lectures to describe the lesser of the four mainstream races.

Humans were those who could not alter their soul wavelengths. They could not wield weapons. They could not be weapons, nor could they cast spells or use magic. They were the beloved helpless ones that Shibusen worked endlessly to protect. But now, at this table, this moment it seemed such a cruel term. Her eyes returned to the booth where Amber was still chatting with friends from school and instead of resentment and anger, there was a pang of jealousy.

They were the beloved helpless…they were human. Soul and Maka therefore were not. Not protected. Not human. Not beloved. Just expected, necessary and somewhat expendable. If they were to stand and announce their position and accomplishments, there would be no applause. There would be no thanks given for their efforts to protect that moment of happiness those five teenagers were now reveling in. After she and Soul ate their pizza, they'd leave a tip for the pretty human waitress for her bussing food and drinks and they would return to their apartment and begin preparation for their upcoming mission. They'd risk their bodies and souls and there would never be a tip awaiting them for their efforts. Just the scrutiny of their superiors, the emptiness of their awaiting apartment and the homework left to finish.

"Eh sorry, it was a dumb question." Soul shrugged, finding the growing silence unnatural from his partner. Now that he thought about it, it was an unfair question to ask Maka in the first place.

There had been a time in his own life when Soul was human, before his sudden and unexpected transformation stunned his family and changed everything. Back then, the only things that mattered were family and music. There were no troubles in the world, just fresh cut wide lawns, suits, lavish parties and recitals. For a few short years, there had been innocents; ignorance towards the world outside his family's estate. He had that.

Maka never did.

She had was born, or rather bred, to be what she was. When she came to be, the only question was if she was technician or weapon, not if she would want to spend her life out there, fighting, struggling, battling against the darkest parts of the world. Her child hood was spent filling her head with the wonders of being in the Shibusen elite. She had never had the chance to be human or even contemplate the peaceful jobs humans occupy.

Maybe he could have worded his question differently, asked what it might have been like to be a teenager, like those who also shared the restaurant. That was a loss they both shared. The hardest things those students across from them would know in these short teenaged years were college exams, what car to eventually buy, what dress to wear to prom. The absence of his and Maka's own teenaged years was evident in the apartment they both shared, forced to live with each other for convenience incase there was trouble, to help foster better understand and resonance. Living like adults at the simple age of 15 and 16. The most blood those kids would see would be from infrequent fist fights, sports accidents or in the movies. Not like they had seen. Not like they had spilt. Not like they had shed.

The thought of blood turned Soul's stomach. Being a weapon had given him plenty of experience with blood. Maka had seen her share, but she didn't know what it was like to be encased in flesh, to tear, slice and separate organs, skin, bone and body. To be covered and saturated with the hot, sticky life giving substance, nor what it was like to look up and see cross-sections of human anatomy so plainly displayed, sliding across himself. He only thanked god that the speed of her swings made the cuts single and helped set the crimson flying from his blade once he was clear of the corpse. There had been nights he had wondered what sort of sacrifice he was making for this position of scythe. His place with his family, innocents, adolescence, good pleasant dreams…

The sudden smell of pizza made Soul flinch, given his most recent line of thought. Amber; however, was blissfully unaware.

"Here we are: one large pizza, half pepperoni, half cheese. Anything else I can get for you two?"

"No, thank you." Maka smiled pleasantly, already forcing herself to think of better, different things. She had a knack of lording over her thoughts, placing them in neat and organized manners; little packages of ignored truths nestled between exaggerated lies and false beliefs. She tucked Soul's question behind the dresser in the back of the closet in the furthest corner of the house of her mind and trusted that Soul wouldn't end up pulling it back into light. Everything had its place within her. Control and planning were keys to being a successful meister, after all. She was happy being whatever it was that she was. There was nothing else. There had never been anything else besides Maka: the scythe meister, and contemplating any other outcome was foolish and stupid and a waste of time.

"As I was saying before you started staring off into space, tomorrow we're leaving for Ocean City, Maryland to investigate claims of a middle aged man who kidnaps children and drowns them before eating their souls."

Cheese stretched a long bridge from Soul's lips to the slice of pizza in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at her description. God, she talked about it like it was the weather forecast. This was some sleeze ball on the other side of the country who was eating souls from the bloated drowned bodies of children. When he wondered if their souls tasted as good as this pizza, he decided it was probably time to put in for personal leave from school. Everyone knew souls tasted more like diet Jell-O than Mick's Famous Pizza and if they tasted this good, heaven help them all. He couldn't help a soft chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Maka asked, pulling her plain cheese slice onto her own plate.

"Nothing." He dismissed between large bites leaving jagged teeth marks in the food. "So, after this mission, do you think we could just spend a day on the boardwalk? It's been a while since we've-"

"We have a test in combat studies next week, remember? We need that time to study." Maka said, not even looking at him, but rather her pizza as she used a napkin to dab away some of the grease that glistened on the slick white cheese.

Soul stuffed the crust of his slice into his mouth and swallowed. "Couldn't we just bring our books and study after we play some games or gone swimming or something?"

Maka seemed to give Soul's suggestion some thought as she took small bites of her food. Once her food was properly chewed and swallowed, she put half of her slice down and looked at him with skeptical green eyes.

"Are you telling me, Soul _Eater_, that you wouldn't gorge yourself on beach fries, play away all your money on games and be so tired from swimming around in the water that you'd actually devote time to studying?"

He sighed and leaned further back in his seat, folding his arms across his shirt. "Why are you so scared of having fun?"

"I am not scared to have fun." Maka huffed, "Why are you so scared to take anything seriously?" Dodging a question with an aggressive one of her own was a classic move for her. The possibility of an argument was exciting in a way that she wasn't fully aware of. A bit like a game of chess, a bit like a wrestling match, she enjoyed this game with Soul. It was the way she had learned that women were supposed to communicate with men.

"What? I do take things seriously." He frowned, appetite waning.

"Oh? Like what?" She egged him on, nonchalantly bringing her pizza back to her lips.

Soul paused before sighing. He wasn't going to let her get him to yell. That would be so uncool here in a public place. If they were at home though… "Fine, whatever. You can bring your books and study your brains out, but I'm going to relax and have some fun."

"No you're not. Your last test was awful. You know that we have to graduate as a team and there's no way that I'm going to let you keep me from graduating with honors."

He held his head, feeling a headache come on "Maka, we're not even supposed to graduate for another two years! One weekend having fun isn't going to flunk us!"

In all honesty, Soul's grades were good. Not as good as her's but much better than others in the class. There was no harm in pushing him to do better though. It showed she cared, right? "If you tried harder, I wouldn't have to worry so much."

He leaned forward over the food, hands planted roughly on the edge of the table. "I DO try hard. If I'm such a burden, why the hell do you put up with me, huh?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She frowned, leaning forward as well.

"I'm sayin' that if it wasn't for your grudge against your dad and your worship of your mother you wouldn't give a damn about being my partner. I mean, why else would you stick with such a lazy stupid weapon, am I right? Because that's what it _sounds_ like." He gritted his teeth at her, eyes narrowed.

"Don't project your stupid insecurities on me!"

"That's because you have enough of your own?" Soul stood and grabbed his wallet, tossing a twenty on the table. "I just wanted to spend a weekend with you." And before Maka could wrap her mind around his last statement, Soul left the table and pushed through the door of the restaurant, the bells chiming loudly announcing the end of the argument like the round bell in a boxing match. She had won. He had retreated. It was just as she had been taught.

It was then she became painfully aware that all eyes were on her. Those stupid, ungrateful eyes of the people, the _humans_, staring, judging her for her actions. They didn't know anything about her or what they went through!

"What are all of you looking at huh?" she yelled at them, glaring particularly at the group of teenagers and the bright ray of sunlight in her eyes that was Amber. For a moment she felt bitterness towards all humans, for the things that she had to do despite the pride she took in doing it. And there was bitter anger towards Soul for even making her question what it was she was doing and considering the cushy place humans had. For having formed the question in her mind, scared it would creep from its hiding place and just complicate things, everything was complicated with him! She punched the table and left, the money still there next to the large pizza with just one and a half slices missing.

'_I just wanted to spend a weekend with you.'_ His words repeated in her mind as Maka walked through the dark streets of Death City. The air was thin and dry and unbearably hot even under the grinning moon. Why did it feel as though there was more to that statement than what was obvious? He was predisposed to being lazy, laying around with headphones on doing nothing more than listening to music or playing games with Black Star, like Black Star didn't have enough things he needed to do to just catch up with the rest of the class.

Halfway home, she began to think about what it would be like to take in the ocean front city. The colorful t shirt shops nestled between souvenir and taffy places. The smell of fries, the call of sea gulls, sand, the ocean, the sky. When had been the last time they had taken a few days to their selves? Enjoyed one of the places they had gone to visit rather than just accomplish the goal and go? _Soul wouldn't be infected if they had gone sightseeing in Italy after their mission like she had promised…_

This line of thought was counterproductive.

The silence and emptiness of their apartment didn't consol her. She had hoped he'd have beaten her home and would be there, watching a movie or playing a video game, but instead darkness welcomed her home. The floor creaked in all the familiar ways as Maka moved to turn on the light. Quiet stillness was always unsettling to her. All her life there was noise, talking, yelling, someone to listen to, someone to talk to, to argue with, to suggest, to command. Maka retreated into her room and gathered an armful of text books, carrying them to the couch to study that way she'd know the moment when Soul would walk in the door.

She was sore, her body was complaining in spurts of pain and stiffness as she sat up on the couch. Her text books and papers were spread in disarray over the floor and small coffee table, shifting on the cushions.

"Soul..?" Maka called into the quietness of the apartment. The morning sun was shining in through the windows, the overhead light still on from when she had drifted to sleep. Soul would typically have picked her up and taken her to her bedroom, stacked her books, turned off the light, no matter how bad the fight had been. He must have been seriously upset last night or just too tired whenever he wandered in.

Maka got up and turned off the over head light before heading down the hallway to his bedroom. Two customary knocks were given before she opened the door to find his bed empty. As if going to check to see if it were a practical joke, Maka tiptoed across the floorboards and lifted the sheets. The bed wasn't even the slightest bit warm. There was no way he _didn't_ come home. That wasn't like him. She checked the bathroom next to find it empty as well, his toothbrush still in exactly the same position he had left it the day before.

_ He was a man after all, did she really think he'd always be there? It was in their nature to run_. Maka shook her head, sitting on the couch ignoring the schoolwork that slumped against her side. In one quick motion she took out her cell phone and called Tsubaki. If Soul spent the night somewhere else to prove some sort of stupid ridiculous point, he'd have stayed there with her and Black Star.

"Hello Tsubaki, is Soul there? No? Are you sure? Could you check Black Star's bedroom? Oh. Ah no, don't worry, I'm sure he's fine. No, we had a stupid fight last night and he stormed out of the restaurant. He probably got a hotel room somewhere or something. I'll let you know when he shows up. Ok. Bye."

The click-close of her cell phone returned her to silence again. An itch, a pull, a knot grew in her stomach, tightened her fists and traveled across her skin. Worry for his safety, anger that he made her worry, and sheer confusion on how an argument over spending a day on some stupid boardwalk had lead to this. To top it off, they were supposed to leave today and now their mission would have to be rescheduled.

If he were to walk into the room, Maka would have to decide between hugging him and punching him in the gut. There was also fear in the fact that he could even raise this sort of emotion in her, that he was close enough. Let him have his time to wander the city and do nothing. There were better things for her to do than worry about someone who didn't care enough to come home.

The hours there after were spent in busy work. The apartment had been cleaned, every crack dusted, disinfected and polished. The homework for the next two weeks was finished, the latest chapter reviewed three times. Groceries were bought, lunch had been prepared, made, ate and put away, dishes cleaned and returned to their places. Every piece of laundry had been taken care of. She had to keep moving, keep busy, keep focused on something productive, always productive. If she held still then worry and unhappiness would flood over her edges like a skipping stone losing velocity.

But her…their… apartment held no more distractions. There was nothing left to do. Maka grabbed her coat and left into the dimming afternoon sun to go and look for that bastard. There was no way she'd let Soul put her through another night of waiting and another day of hell. And when she found him? Oh, there'd be hell to pay.

She had only stepped out into the street when she picked up on his wavelength no more than half a mile to the west. Maka began to think about all the things she'd say as she jogged along the sidewalk. How she'd scold him, how hard she'd whack him for making her worry, how she'd make fun of him for being so easy to find. She'd never tell him she worried, that it drove her crazy not to know if he was ok or how she even regretted _some_ of the things she had said. Now that she had worked so far ahead, the upcoming test was no longer an excuse to keep them from having fun together.

What would she say first? 'If you're going to hide out, you should try harder!' or maybe 'What the hell do you think you were doing, not coming home like that?' She wasn't even truly watching where she was going as she followed the signal of his soul and thought about how she was going to punish him. He was just up ahead.

"Hey Soul, where the—" Her words stopped short when she saw him, just as she stopped running. Leaning against the store wall in the narrow alley he stood, panting, not putting pressure on his left leg that matted and stained his jeans with blood. His lip was split and hair spotted with flecks of red and deep brown dirt. Despite his condition and her 'greeting' words, a look of relief and happiness spread across his face and slowly his body moved forward. Maka rushed to close the gap and dipped her shoulder under his to give him support.

"What happened? Did you get in some fight?" She was concerned but not too much and would show even less than what she felt. Besides, she had seen him in much worse condition and how quickly he bounced back.

"Oh yea, I'm fine don't worry, it's nothing." He said with sarcasm, but unlike Maka, he couldn't hide his happiness to be there, with her. "We need to see Stein."

"You're joking. Look at you. You at least need a bath and change of clothes before we go anywhere. Can you even walk on your own?"

"This is really important, Maka. We have to get there now." He insisted but Maka shook her head.

"He lives another two miles from our home. At least lets get you patched up, ok? Or else Stein will fuss and we'll never get back."

Soul hadn't expected her to just listen and agree to his request, but she was compromising and that was good enough for him. "Ok."

After all, he had been so very close to never seeing home again or hearing Maka's voice, even though she didn't seem as happy to see him as he'd like.

Maka stood anxiously, back against the closed bathroom door as Soul showered. Her vigilant ears listened carefully to the sounds of the water, worried that he might fall. When she had seen the gash on his left calf it was clear that it had been poor attempt to cut at the back of his knee. Someone had wanted to permanently hinder his mobility. His left arm had small defensive cuts and under the investigation she gave him when they had gotten home, she found a small cut on the back of his head where someone had snuck up behind him.

Dryness plagued her throat. While she had stayed home, being mad, Soul had been hurt, had suffered, fought and somehow escaped something he still hadn't explained yet. She would have remained angry, probably searched all night and when he still wasn't to be found, only then would she have asked for help. Who knows if they would have found a body or—

She shook her head and stared at the picture on the wall across the narrow hallway. The image was of them at lunch at school. Soul's mouth was full of food, a fork in Maka's hand, a book in the other, both of them wearing happy expressions. He could have been gone, he could have died. Suddenly tests and grades felt so petty and spending a day or two having fun, with Soul, far away from all of this seemed like the best idea in the world. A few days to be teenagers. A few days to be humans. To be someone else maybe, besides Maka: the scythe meister and Soul Eater: scythe and devourer of kishin eggs.

The water stopped and Maka moved from the door. She didn't want him to know she had stood there, and went to look busy doing something else. She slipped into his room to gather his dirty and bloodied clothes to start to wash them. Two steps across the hardwood of his floor brought a sudden thunk as something fell out of his pants pocket. There, on the light colored wood sat a white, glossy but cracked circular band of some sort. Maybe it was a broken thick bangle or bracelet since it was an inch, maybe an inch and a half wide and jagged on one end, the circle incomplete. Maka put the clothes on his chair and bent down to pick it up, surprised by its heavy weight. Turning it over carefully in her hand, she noticed this too was specked with blood. The inside of the band was metal; cold, silver and smooth.

"Maka, put that down!" Soul shouted from the doorway and she nearly dropped it in surprise. A blush crossed her cheeks as she noticed he only had a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair hung heavy and long from the water still clinging to it, his torso still a little slick-didn't he know how to dry off properly?

"Soul, put some clothes on!" Maka covered her eyes with her free hand, also attempting to hide the color of her cheeks.

"I would but you're in my room, put that down and get out!" She put the heavy band down on his desk before hurrying past him and paced the hallway while he got dressed. What in the world was that thing, why did he have it and did it have anything to do with his attack? What was taking him so long to get dressed? Maka plopped down on the couch just moments before he half limped into the room. In his hand was a torn section of his shirt from the day before and in that the band Maka had held. He wouldn't touch it himself which only peaked Maka's curiosity more.

"This…" Soul swallowed, looking down at it. Maka waited for him to continue but when he waivered, teetered, she bolted up and caught him, helping him over to a nearby chair.

"Sorry, my right leg's just really really tired." He offered an embarrassed grin. Maka was too concerned about taking the band from him. Kneeling in front of him, she gently took it careful to keep it wrapped in the cloth.

"Don't worry about it. I'll call Dr. Stein and ask him to come over and take a closer look at you. Maybe you have other injuries we can't see."

Soul put a hand on her shoulder and for the first time for quite a while, she truly looked, truly _saw_ Soul, meeting his red eyes with her own. "I'm ok, I promise."

"What happened last night?" she asked softly. There was a rare vulnerability in her voice that Soul noticed that fluttered his stomach.

Slowly he closed his eyes, deciding it was best to start from the beginning.


	2. Letters from a Thief

**The Helpless Beloved**

**Chapter Two**

Soul's face was still hot with anger after he had stormed out of the Mick's Famous Pizzeria. He hated how she could poke and prod him into yelling like that. He wasn't an angry guy but she seemed to just love to get him to yell as if to continuously prove her position over him. He worked constantly to keep up with her academically, worked hard on the field to be as good of a weapon as she needed him to be, worked hard to understand her at all and yet somehow she was never happy. She wanted more and more and more without rest. He was never good enough, he couldn't remember the last time she had told him 'good job.'

And it wasn't like there were any other options. He couldn't return to his home where a weapon of violence, even used in the name of good, had no place among the stainless social elite and their perfect social circles. He couldn't find another technician. Maka's anti-demon wavelength was the only reason she was able to wield him now because of the constant possibility of him losing control and infecting whatever meister was using him. Finding anyone else with that ability was slim to none and even then, he doubted seriously that it would work.

If not a musician, if not a weapon, then who…or what was he supposed to be?

"Hey you!" A voice caught his attention and Soul turned on the otherwise empty street to see a man running up to him. "You're a DWMA, right? I need help!" Soul sighed and ran towards the man. He was middle aged with a salt and pepper crew cut, dressed kind of warmly for the hot Nevada night in his gray turtle neck and tan multi-pocketed vest.

"What's wrong?" Soul asked, following the man as he led him down the street.

"It is my wife, she is hurt." The man sounded foreign. Russian maybe? "What is your name, so I can thank you?"

"Soul." They entered an alley and in the shadows there, Soul caught sight of the man slowing enough to pull out his cell phone and scroll through something like a list.

"Soul Evans, yes? Oh, scythe, very nice, very very rare." Both of them stopped and Soul took a step back, feeling his chest tighten. He had run head long into a trap. Before he could turn and run in the opposite direction, a blow to the head from behind sent him into the wall next to him, splitting his lip against the bricks.

"Hold him still." The man ordered his wide, muscular accomplice who grabbed Soul by the shirt and pulled him off the ground. His other hand searched Soul's pants' pockets and pulled out his cellphone, smashing it against the alley bricks.

His head was still ringing from the blow and he could taste the too familiar penny-sucking flavor of blood in his mouth, as well as feel it dripping down his scalp in the back. This was so so uncool, tricked into an ambush like this! God, if Maka had seen she'd be so embarrassed. 'What are you doing, idiot? Fight back!' He could practically hear her yell in his ears.

The smaller man grinned a venomous, almost hungry looking smile that stretched just far enough past what was normal to be entirely unsettling. Once he was close enough, Soul brought his legs up and planted them firmly on the man's chest, sending him careening backwards. In a flash, his right arm was a blade and he used it to cut the one holding him, earning his freedom.

"You guys caught me on a real bad night." Soul grinned, rotating his bladed arm and cracking his neck. "You should just go before my meister gets here and you're both dead." What a stupid bluff. There was no way Maka was on her way over here. She was probably happily enjoying her pizza after dab-dab-dabbing away all the flavor on her plain, predictable slice of cheese, thinking about tests and whatever the hell.

The larger man chuckled and licked the blood from his arm. "Look at tiny little dog barking at us. You will have to bite harder if you want to get away, pup."

Soul rushed at him, deciding to just let out his frustrations from dinner out on this poor jerk. But the man only evaded and laughed, evaded and laughed before pulling out a sword of his own. It was rare for humans to have weapons. Once humans had weapons they were typically on the way to becoming pre-kishins and therefore no longer human, and this guy didn't _feel_ like a tech. Besides, that sword was too intricate, too special to just be some regular made weapon. Something felt really off, upset his soul just looking at it.

It was enough to get Soul to fall from the offense to defense. When he blocked the sword for the third time and felt how it reverberated against his own metal, how sharp it was, it was clear that this wasn't a forged weapon, it was a born one but it didn't make sense. If Maka were here, she'd be able to let him know what was up, since she could see souls and all. If Maka were here, they'd be kicking ass! This sucked so bad!

The larger man pulled his sword up for a heavy blow but stopped in mid swing. It was a hesitation like that that Soul was waiting for and he dashed forward but was pulled to a sudden stop. The smaller man, the one that had led him there, had grabbed his untransformed wrist.

"You have been much trouble but you will be worth every penny." He laughed before slapping the white and metal band around Soul's wrist. Indescribable white searing pain shot up Soul's arm, setting every nerve on fire. His vision blurred and horrible unforgiving white agony shifted into the calm black void that he knew. Not the blackness of unconsciousness, but rather the void all weapons waited in when they were in weapon form.

Had Maka heard him yell in pain? Did she hear the fight or sense his soul was upset and came to his rescue…? No, even if she had, he had to clearly think 'change,' 'transform' to make the leap from the world to this warm darkness. So what then was going on? He tried to shift back, only to feel sparks of that same pain hit him with every attempt.

"Give up, boy, you cannot change back. You keep trying you may just kill yourself." The small man smiled at the blade. Soul could see the face from the dark and sneered at him.

"What did you bastards do?"

"We are arms dealers. We sell good weapons for good price. You will make much money. We are taking you back to warehouse where we will put you in storage. Maybe for month or two, then you are ready to sell. It is not fair that only technicians get to use such nice weapons, you think?"

It was then that panic filled him. If he was forced to remain in his weapon form, he'd die of starvation. Just because his normal human-like form was hidden away didn't mean that it and the soul that lived inside of it didn't need to eat, drink or breathe.

"A month? I can't stay like this for a month!"

"Yes, I know." He laughed heartily. "Band will make sure you stay that way until your soul leaves then anyone can use you. Your body stays in nice scythe shape like regular metal weapon. The way it should be."

What was he going to do? Soul couldn't even wiggle or flex his scythe form without being shocked mercilessly from the band that was now tight around where staff and blade head met. If they got him to the warehouse, wherever that was, if they put him in storage it was less and less likely that Maka or anyone would ever find him. They could ship him anywhere in the world to hide as cargo. And if he suffocated or starved to death and was sold, no one would ever know what had happened to him.

A shiver ran across his skin as the thought of dying here, in this darkness… alone, slowly without food or water or quickly without air really set in. It was almost as frightening as the fact that to these people he was an object only and he would be sold to others who would only know him as an object, would probably never guess that he had been a person with a life and friends and family left behind. They would be good people or bad people using his empty body.

His mind drifted back to that sword the larger of the two men had used against him. That had probably once been someone too, now just an empty metal shell used however the user wanted without complaint or opinion.

"That's pretty close to what you've always been, am I right?" The black had shifted to an even less friendly space. A place he wanted even less to die in: the black room with that stupid imp grinning at him. "You don't think Maka sees you as a person, do you?"

"Go away, I REALLY don't need you buzzing around me right now." Soul huffed, sitting heavily in the ornate chair. He hated this space so, so much, resenting how it resembled the ball room at his family's house, filled with useless decorative objects and gaudy furniture. The smell was musty with a thin disguise of lavender, like someone had sprayed air freshener but just made a stinking monster in the process.

He'd find a way out of this for nothing else than to escape meeting his fate in this place.

"Oh poor me, my _master_ is never happy with me, I bet she'll never be happy with me, whatever will I do?" The imp mocked, holding a girly pose. "Now look at the mess you're in. And for humans, the same dirty monkey creatures you risk yourself to protect. Still up to protecting them?" In an instant the ugly thing had disappeared from in front of Soul to peeking around the edge of the back of his chair to whispered against his ear with breath that smelled like boiled cabbage and sardines. "I could help you out of this jam, you know."

"There's a catch to it and I'm not biting." Soul leaned forward and away from the creature, feeling anger building up just being in this atmosphere, let alone the situation he was in.

"You're a tool either way." The demon shrugged, walking over to the silent Victrola, playing the warped music record, knowing it set Soul all the more on edge. There was a catch in the record, now repeating the same four inharmonious notes again and again, making Soul's hands clench the arms of his chair. "You might as well be a living tool than a dead one."

"I said shut up!" He shouted. "I'll think of something on my own!" The demon moved and Soul could no longer see him, but he could hear him, walking, shuffling across the glossy checkered tiles. He could feel the heaviness in the air the _thing_ created. And that record! Skipping skipping skipping! No—He had to keep his cool, if it got the best of him, Maka wasn't here to help him out.

"They've already carried you two miles," the Imp said from somewhere in the back. Perhaps near the piano, "You need to think faster or you'll never see any of your friends again."

Soul's eyes widened at that. The further they took him, the less and less likely there was a way out of this. He gritted his teeth, took a breath and asked what he didn't want to. "What is the catch?"

The demon appeared out from behind a curtain and grinned, showing his sharp saw teeth as he held up his oversized finger. "I reserve the right to one favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"That is a secret. But I can call on this favor at any time and do whatever I want until I've accomplished the favor I asked for."

"No way." Soul shook his head without hesitation. "Who knows what messed up things you'll do."

"Nothing worse than what those humans are going to do with your body once you're dead. They'll probably end up killing innocent people so some power hungry pre-kinshin can gobble up souls. Thanks to you, Soul," The creature bowed dramatically. "And your good moral heart." He let out a high pitched laugh.

Letting that thing have full reign over him for a vague amount of time was out of the question. It was likely he'd do something awful, hurt his friends, do who knows what to Maka. But there was an ever clear reality that his life was in serious danger.

He'd give it to protect her, but if he just disappeared and never came back, never got to say goodbye, that would hurt her in ways he knew he couldn't imagine. Soul was aware of her abandonment issues and trust issues and after that stupid, pointless, petty argument they had...the last things they had said to one another... he couldn't let it end that way. The damage it would do to her would be irreparable.

"Ugh, your thoughts are so boring to read." The demon sighed, laying on a table, giant hands behind his giant head, legs bent and crossed at the knee. "Maka this, Maka that. You know she doesn't think about you half as much as you think about her."

"How the hell would you know?" Soul frowned. "If you don't like it, keep your pointy nose outta my head!"

"Four miles now. I wonder where this warehouse is. I guess we're gunna find out, huh?"

That's when a slightly twisted grin crossed Soul's lips. "You're not going to let them kill me. If I die, you'll die."

The air stiffened and the needle on the record finally jumped free of the catch, going to play the rest of the twisted melody Soul had heard before. Slowly the demon rose from his laying position, chest first like something possessed. The music swelled and distorted, no longer coming from the Victrola, but the walls, the ceiling, the floor.

"I see you're under some delusion that you are important in any way," Without its mocking grins, the demon was terrifying as it slipped like thick, caustic black blood from the table top. It approached Soul silently, literally floating, the tips of his shoes not touching the floor. The lights in the room dimmed and Soul swallowed hard, unable to look away.

"I exist everywhere, in everything."

The brightness flickered and in the sparks of light between, shadows flew free, shifting across everything. The monster approached still. The pupils in its eyes gone, leaving pure white with spider thin blue veins and edged in sickly yellow. It's endless rows of teeth unfolded; tiny, jagged and razor sharp, now bared as if ready to devour him whole. Soul scrambled higher in his chair till he was standing in the seat. Where the hell could he run or hide? This was his own head!

Coldness shot up his leg as he felt the devil's hand wrap around it and although it spoke, the words came from everywhere, not the creature's giant gaping mouth and gnashing teeth. "I am not indebted to you, it is the other way around." His mouth grew closer to Soul's leg, saliva dripped and burned the pin striped cloth, empty bloated dead white staring through him "I will collect your penance."

"Fine!" Soul screamed in the instant blackness. In that moment the only sound was his heavy breathing. He could feel the shaking frame of the chair he stood in but there was nothing else. No music, no room, nothing but his own panting, his trembling.

"Glad we could finally come to an agreement." It chuckled, appearing in its normal disproportionate, hardly intimidating self. Soul slid down in the chair but kept curled up enough in it to stay away from the short beast. "Sorry to trick you like that." it laughed.

"It was a trick?" Soul shouted, sitting up straight, all worry gone.

"How else could I get a brat like you to listen to me, hmm?" It only laughed when Soul bent down and picked the imp up by the collar.

"Listen here, you little goblin, I never would have agreed to anything-"

"Although I tricked your eyes, it doesn't mean that I can't collect at any time I wish. You and your partner have abused my powers enough to earn ownership over your soul. It's for my own enjoyment I let you keep playing house."

"How am I supposed to believe anything you say after a stunt like that?" Soul dropped the creature and tried to act cool, but his heart was still racing. "Now about this favor you fooled me into agreeing to."

"Oh look at the time!" The imp pointed to his bare wrist. "Time's up."

Before Soul could protest, he found himself in a cargo van sitting across from the burly accomplice from before.

"How did you manage to break band?" He gasped in broken English.

Soul looked between his feet to see the broken device and cursed the stupid imp. For a deal like that, he could have somehow gotten him home or something! He ducked a jab to the face just in time, delivering one of his own to the man's jaw. Even though his fist hurt like hell, Soul followed it up with another to the man's throat. It was a cheap, cheap move but now wasn't the time to fight fairly.

As the man struggled to regain his breath, Soul grabbed the broken band and stuffed it in his pocket before kicking the van door open. They were on the highway, he couldn't even see the city anymore. This was bad bad bad!

The man behind him grabbed Soul's shirt with one hand and other used a knife to try and cut the tendons behind his knees. A bump in the road made the knife miss its mark and in reaction, Soul shifted back into scythe form, partly from the attack, but also because the bump had sent him over the edge of the van's bumper. Since there was no more shirt to hold, the accomplice was left leaning out of the van with his head in such an unfortunate position: under a falling scythe blade.

The metal clanged end over end until the steel skidded to a screeching stop on the pavement. The van continued into the distance with open back doors and a headless corpse in the back. It had taken hours and hours of limping, resting and limping back home. Scared that the van would turn around, Soul took a different route back to Death City, which just made his trip longer. Weird how no one picked up bloody limping hitchhikers...

"After they explained that they were going to sell me, they put me in a van. I guess I must have bumped hard against something because the band broke. I fought the guy in the back and escaped out of the van and walked home." Soul searched Maka's eyes, hoping that she'd buy the less worrying version of the story. She closed them and stood, looking at the heavy band in her hand with new eyes.

"You're right. We have to have Stein look at this right away. Who knows how many weapons they've captured with this." She let go of his hand and left to give the professor and doctor a call. Soul followed her with his eyes as she disappeared into the kitchen.

_'Playing house'_ huh? He ran a hand through his hair.

Maybe all of this really was just borrowed time.

As much as he hated to think about that time in Italy, he hated the irony even more. If he had let Maka take the hit, she would have been fine. The anti-demon wavelength she had would have neutralized the black blood, and it obviously wasn't a fatal strike. She'd have a scar to show for it, but that would be it. She'd either be ashamed of it or proud, it was hard to tell. But in his attempt to protect, everything was just more complicated. He rested his head in his hands. Soul felt so stupid. For the past, for the recent events. For everything.

"Ok, thank you, Dr. Stein. I'll come and drop it off as soon as possible." A sudden touch to her back made Maka stiffen. "Y-yes, bye." She hung up and glanced over her shoulder to see Soul resting his forehead against the meeting of her neck and shoulders. "Soul?"

"I'm sorry about the fight over dinner. It was pretty dumb and I acted really...uncool." There was something else. This wasn't about the fight, Maka could tell. There was sorrow just under his tone. Gently, she turned to face him, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"I'm sorry too. I think a day or two to have fun might not hurt." She couldn't push for whatever it was that was upsetting him or he would turn away. "In fact, why don't we just hang out here tomorrow?" Her suggestion didn't seem to console Soul. If anything, it made his eyes fall from her to the floor.

"When they told me about what they were going to do, I kept thinking how I didn't want that fight to be the last thing we—" So that was what it was. Maka gently put two fingers on his lips.

"Let's not talk about this, ok? You're alright, home, that's all that's important." The small smile she offered put him at ease. It really was best Maka didn't know about the details of his escape for now. Even if this time was borrowed, it was worth whatever hell that demon would put him through later. He knew full well if things got out of control, Maka and the others were more than skilled enough to take care of it, even if the outcome wasn't the best for him.

Stein sighed, looking at the device dropped off by Maka. It had taken a while to convince the persistent meister that he'd tell her all about his findings once he investigated it, but now that he was alone in his lab he merely twirled it on his finger before stuffing it in a drawer with five others just like it.

This was truly burdensome. Thanks to Soul and Maka it would only be a matter of time before everyone knew about Operation Pawn.

He cranked his screw in annoyance.

Oh well, it couldn't be helped...


	3. Right in Two

Beloved Helpless

Chapter Three

"Disconnect...cleanly." The words were hardly audible from his lips.

"Disconnect cleanly?" Liz repeated as a whisper, looking over her shoulder at Patty who just shrugged. She looked back to Kid who was under her slightly, still sleeping and muttering softly. Both of her knees were resting carefully on the edge of his large bed creasing the black silk sheets as she watched him sleep. For a moment she took in how he looked: mostly sane with his hair slightly in disarray from tossing during the night. It was a good look on him but whatever, it was time for school. Before Liz could say anything to wake him, she was sent flying off the bed when Patty jumped on the other side, leaping on the mattress and bouncing bouncing on the sheets, giggling like a child.

"Time for school! Get up get up!"

Liz glared up at her sister from her spot on the floor. It would have been nice to have had some warning before ending up on her ass.

"Patty! What do you think you are doing?" Kid practically shrieked, making an attempt to cover himself with the sheets even though he was in full black silk pajama top and pants. The sheet wasn't helping much; every bounce Patty made sent him airborne. "Get out! Both of you! Patty are you jumping on my bed with your _**shoes on**_? Do you know how dirty you're making my bed? You're wrinkling everything, get out!"

"Aw Kid! Jump with me!" Patty grabbed Kid's hand, pulling him upright.

"I'm not properly dressed!"

"You're not naked, that's dressed enough to jump! You could jump naked too but that would be weird." Patty laughed, now taking both his hands in her's.

Kid opened his mouth to again _strongly insist_ that they take their leave, but Patty's chest, bouncing bouncing, moving together in perfect symmetry under her sleeveless mid drift-showing red turtle neck left him hopping with her and unable to look away. At least, until a strong hit from a pillow to the back of his head snapped him out of it. Liz stood at the edge of the bed, one hand on her hip.

"Get ready or we're gunna be late again. C'mon Patty."

"Okay!" Patty jumped off the bed. "Hurry up, Kid!" They walked to the bedroom door and Liz paused to look over her shoulder at him. There was her super uptight, order obsessed tech standing on his bed, still dazed and confused, pajama top hanging off one shoulder, hair even more of a mess, his sheets and pillows all over the floor. It was a rare, delicious sight of chaos draped around him that brought a satisfied grin to her lips.

"When are you gunna stop being such a big scardy cat?" Patty asked once Liz shut the door.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She knew what her sister was getting at and she really didn't wanna deal with it right now. It was way too early in the morning for that crap. Liz scooted past her sister, wanting to put distance between them and Kid's door if Patty couldn't get the hint. Naturally, Patty followed her down the hallway.

"How long are you gunna wait? Five more years? Ten more years? When? I wanna be an aunt!" Liz grabbed Patty into a head lock and covered her mouth.

"Shut your mouth, stupid! You're never gunna be an aunt so get over it." It was easy for Patty to wiggle free.

"No you're right, I'll never be an aunt when my big sis has game like that!"

Liz huffed, walking ahead. "I'm not into short guys remember?"

"Kid is still young, you know he'll end up growing and _growing." _Patty caught up, that mischievous grin still on her face. "Besides, you were like an inch away from his face when he was sleeping. I thought you were gunna wake him up with your tongue!" The sloppy wet smooching noises Patty made only annoyed Liz more.

"Then why did you have to jump on the bed if you thought I was going to do something so _completely disgusting!"_

"I thought it would make him flip up and you guys would be on the floor with him on top, but I guess I didn't jump hard enough." She shrugged. When Liz growled, Patty took her head start running down the hall, laughing hysterically as Liz chased her.

Liz walked far ahead of both of them once they left for school, two hours late of course. She was furious with Patty, and she certainly couldn't be too close to Kid with Patty around for fear her sister's big mouth would say something incredibly, unbelievably, and completely stupid. They had managed to miss the school's offered breakfast and the boring morning homeroom/study hall anyways. Everyone was chatting up a storm waiting for their lazy ass professor to show up. Liz slid into her seat on the same row as their friends. Maka was reading, Soul and Black Star were talking about some movie or something and poor Tsubaki was just listening quietly. That poor, poor girl. When Kid sat next to Liz she scooted just a bit closer to Maka.

"Hey Maka, it's your dad." Soul said and Liz watched Maka put the book down with a look of horror on her face as Spirit sauntered into the classroom, looking proud as hell to just be there. Yea, Spirit was an embarrassing womanizing dad, but hell, at least she had one. God, what Liz wouldn't do to have her own da-

"Good morning class" Stein's words interrupted her train of thought and pulled Liz's attention to him instead. "This morning we're going to have a very important demonstration and discussion."

"Are we dissecting that old pervert?" Black Star laughed, pointing before earning a high five from Soul.

"Both of you better pay attention." Spirit scowled, crossing his arms.

"Maybe another day." Stein chuckled as his former weapon's mouth dropped at his betrayal. "Today he's going to help demonstrate something for us." From his lab coat pocket, Stein pulled out the heavy band from before, holding it up in the air. "Does anyone know what this is?"

"A cheap bracelet?" Liz asked, bored already, cheek in her hand. It looked like ugly costume jewelry. Her eyes glanced to Maka who sat up straight and Soul who sunk a little further down in his seat at the sight of the object. Maka's hand did raise to answer the question but Stein ignored her.

"There is a very good reason why none of you know what this is."

"It can't be that important if I don't know about it." Black Star scoffed. He was ignored as Stein went to the board and scrawled across it in chalk 'Operation Pawn' in large letters. Liz rolled her eyes as Maka pulled out a notebook to take notes.

"This is called a reflex band." Stein continued again, holding it up in the air. "If you see someone approaching you with this and you are a weapon, keep your distance. If you are a technician and your weapon is with you, keep your distance."

"Over some stupid little bracelet?" Black Star again interrupted. "That thing doesn't even look cool, there's no way it could be that bad!" Liz could barely hear Tsubaki urge Star to be quiet as Stein shot him an annoyed look. He walked to Spirit who had this anxious look on his face as if he was preparing to be injected or punched or something. The only student who wasn't looking was Soul.

"It might look like a simple bracelet but the reflex band is very dangerous." With that, the professor opened the band and clamped it hard on Spirit's wrist. Everyone's skepticism went out the window when the death scythe let out an awful high-pitched yell of pain. The bracelet sparked and arched in bright blue before Stein caught the black steel scythe. The band was tight around the staff just under his hand. And there was silence, even Black Star sat in shock at what had happened.

"A strong electrical shock is sent from the band into the nervous system of the weapon, triggering the transformation reflex." Stein continued to explain. He turned his attention to the weapon in hand. "Try to transform back."

"Do I have to?" Spirit pouted from his blade.

"Be brave, for Maka." There was more jolts and more girl-like howls of pain before Stein propped the weapon against the blackboard.

"There is an underground movement of humans who are developing technologies to allow them to use or control weapons. This is just one of their devices and we have seen them in four different styles so far. Such as this one." He held up a different one that made Liz gasp. She had been oogling a bracelet just like it in one of her magazines. If someone had offered it to her, she would have taken it in an instant. "Once this band is on your weapon they are easy to take, hide, transport and sell. I highly advise all of you to travel in pairs." Stein's eyes fell to Soul and Maka.

Kid raised his hand and waited for Stein's permission to speak. Once given he cleared his throat. "Why have we not been informed about this? Technologies such as this take a great deal of time to develop."

"I'll get to that in a second." Stein nodded before pulling out from under the demo table a number of images which he used magnets to display on the large black board. "This is another device we have encountered. If you see it and you are a weapon, your only option is to flee." On the board were images of bronze colored gauntlets that went nearly up to the elbow. Thick rich leather made the base and the outer parts were protected in the yellow gold colored metal, probably used for blocking. The palms had silver plates and the dissected pictures of it showed intricate systems of wires and thin blue liquid tubing that hid between metal and leather.

"We call these modulator gloves. Those of you who pay attention know that humans can not interact with weapons because they can not move their wavelengths to a high enough frequency. Once a weapon is gripped in these gloves, it grabs the weapon's soul and rips and distorts the core of the soul until its frequency is low enough to work. It is an incredibly painful process and if a weapon _survives_, it can cause mental damage, severe personality disorders, insanity and comas. It has never happened, but if a weapon were to endure that and not be dead, handicapped or comatose, it is likely that person would never be able to use their weapon form again or resonate."

"These are all bad." Again Black Star's voice spoke out without permission. "_Really bad_. But shouldn't we be taking out these guys who are using them?"

"Reflex bands and modulator gloves make fighting with mid and close range weapons impossible. If you were to use Tsubaki against these all they'd need to do is grab her chain, catch her, touch her at all and it's over."

"So how the hell are we supposed to fight against these jerks?" Black Star seethed.

"Long range and flying weapons are best. Guns, cross bows, elemental weapons, weapons that send pulses or forces rather than inflicting damage directly." Liz paled at that. There were horrible people who were developing stuff like that and they wanted her and Patty to go after them?

"Of course, none of these devices affect technicians, so your abilities are still useful, Black Star." Stein pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Now, Kid asked a very good question. Why don't we all know about this?" The professor went to the board and removed the pictures. "For the same reasons why none of you are going to speak about this to anyone. No one outside of the class, and no where but the privacy of your own house and only if you don't have family members who might hear you."

On the board he wrote out Human, Technician, Weapon, Witch. "In lectures, we talk about the mainstream races and their natural born power in order of least to greatest. Let's look at some other facts besides the NBP." He turned and wrote Human: 85%, Technician: 5%-, Weapon: 6%+, Witch: 4%. "This is how the population of the world breaks down." he tapped the chalk against the numbers. "There are currently 6, 697, 254, 041 people in the world. If humans make up 85%, that means there are 5, 692, 665, 935 humans. That's a lot. With only 334, 862, 702 technicians and 401, 835, 243 weapons, I think we're grossly out numbered. Another factor to the races that we haven't touched on yet is destructive potential. Let me show you that in order of least to greatest." When he moved away, they all saw Technician, Weapon, Witch, Human.

"Professor Stein," Maka said, breaking the collective silence over the students present. "I thought witches held the highest potential to do evil because of the sway of magic."

"The sway of magic is a major factor in the destructive potential for witches, that is correct, but that is something that witches are aware of. They know it is what makes them want to do wrong and some can choose to follow or fight it, but there's no mistaking what it is. Humans..." he sat in his chair resting his chin on the back. "This is always a difficult thing to teach to children."

"They do evil things and believe it is for good." Kid spoke up. "The power of the fear of death and powerlessness and paranoia is stronger in humans because they don't have the same power as the other races. Actions that others would see as horrific are justified sometimes by just simple hear say and whole armies can be rallied by propaganda based on lies. Because so many believe the evil that they are doing is right and just, they're much happier to fight and die for their cause and thus add exponentially to their destructive potential. Once you factor in their population statistics, they do become a serious threat."

Liz swallowed at that, looking at him. Of course Kid would already know about this stuff. He was the heir to the throne and would need to know about those he needed to protect. But it still chilled her a little to hear him speak about people like that. It reminded her that he wasn't like her. He wasn't like anyone. He was above all of this mess, above her and everyone. Did he think of her that way? Liz: a weapon with questionable up bringing. Prides herself on her appearance and has a tendency to assume motherly positions. Like reading some sort of medical sheet.

"Yes, as Kid put it so well humans are easy to scare, and fear and the drive for power are the first steps towards insanity." Stein sat upright in his chair. "Also consider that only humans and weapons can eat souls. All of you, think about your past five or six missions. How many were humans who had turned to eating souls for power? If they would go so far as murdering the innocent and giving up their individual reason for power, think what they will do if they can gain power in a way they can justify?"

Stein stood from his chair. "Because humans are easy to scare into a self righteous frenzy and out number us, it is important that no one finds out about Operation Pawn. The only reason I am telling any of you about this is because it's come to my attention that the organization has been so brave as to try and attack some of our own students. I want you to know what to look for so that you can run. Now. Shibusen has been able to protect the peace for years and years because humanity trusts us to take care of everything. They believe we're a strong group of individuals with powers which they can't comprehend, which is true. But if they knew the sort of threat we are facing, they'll want to investigate and report and cover it and it'll give our enemy a platform to speak and that is the most dangerous thing of all."

"What _is_ our enemy's platform?" Maka asked. Stein stilled for a moment, looking up at his students with an odd mix of seriousness and bitterness.

"Money, greed, power. But they'll preach about the need for an equality of power between the races. They'll talk about how weapons are dangerous and need to be regulated in a way that humans have control over because they are the majority. They'll call for the ability to arm their selves and violence locally and globally will increase. Shibusen will be feared, hated, labeled as oppressors, possibly disbanded."

There was a twitch, a tightness next to her that made Liz glance at Kid. There had been a sharp flinch in his wavelength and a small shift as his hands clenched under the writing surface. Someone wanting to steal your weapon was pretty bad, but the stakes were so much higher for him. This was the legacy he had been preparing to inherit all his life that was at risk. Gently, Liz put a hand on his shoulder earning a thankful glance as his body relaxed under her touch. The whole exchange had been brief, silent and subtle but it meant a lot to her. That was her most important job of all, letting him know that he wasn't alone in his position. And although the idea of having to face people who could demolish her soul with tacky gloves and ugly jewelry made her stomach turn, Liz would face it. For Kid and for the world she knew he would make someday.

"There are teams of death scythes out all over the world trying to hunt down the heart of operations for this organization and destroy it." Stein continued. "It will take some time since there are a limited number of appropriate death scythe weapon types available, but we are growing closer to the source. Until then, all of you be careful, be quiet, and be alert. The rest of this class period is for studying with the exception of Maka, Black Star and Death the Kid. I'd like you and your weapons to follow me to the Death Room." That said, Stein picked up the forgotten scythe from the blackboard and carried it out of the room.

"This is some crazy stuff." Black Star said, looking at Soul and Maka.

"It's no joke; I was attacked two days ago. That band hurts like hell." Soul scratched his head.

"No way! You didn't tell ME about it?" Star gasped.

"Stein said to keep quiet about it."

"We should go." Kid said standing. "If we're expected in the Death Room, it is likely that Father is waiting as well."

The walk there was quiet which was strange for their group, unsettling a little. Liz looked around at the tall ceilings, the walls, the lockers as they made their way to the heart of the school. How could anyone want to hurt such a good place? Wasn't the world already full with enough of dark alleys? With fighting and pain and anger? She and Patty finally found a place to call home, a place to belong and have a purpose that meant something. This wasn't just a crazy witch, or a psycho who liked hurting people, this was billions of potential enemies, turning at once to take what she finally found.

This time it was Kid who softly touched her back for reassurance as he opened the door to the Death Room and faintly she could hear Patty giggle at the small, warm gesture.

Once clear of the guillotine walkway, there stood Stein still holding bound Spirit's form over his shoulder and of course, the towering form of Shinigami-sama. "Yo! Wassup?" The god greeted, but it didn't do anything to alleviate the worried expressions of the students.

"Father, I would like to know why you did not trust us with this information sooner. You have relied on us to accomplish a number of advanced and covert missions before." Kid asked, stepping forward of the group a little.

"Kiddo, it isn't that I don't trust you or didn't think you could do anything, I just didn't want to worry you if it was nothing." The father patted his son's head. Kid peeked out from under his father's massive hand.

"I would hardly think this qualifies as nothing."

"So what's the plan?" Black Star asked, bouncing from foot to foot. "There's gotta be some great plan if you called us back here, right? Naturally you put me and Tsubaki at the head of the attack force!"

"Not exactly." Shinigami-sama retracted his hand back into the nothingness of his robe. "You see, things have gotten a little messy. Yumi Azusa, the overseeing death scythe for East Asia, went missing recently when she was investigating a town just outside of Moscow."

"What?" Liz swallowed. Everyone turned and looked at her for her sudden outburst. "She's legendary, if they could take her down then-"

"She's just fallen out of contact." Stein interrupted. "We are hoping for the best."

"So you're going to send us in to rescue her?" Black Star asked, "I'm getting annoyed, you keep telling us all this bad news, I wanna hear what we're gunna do!"

"Maybe they would if you'd shut up." Maka scolded him.

"We're sending Kid's team out to Moscow to look for Azusa only." Stein said. "First, let me show you the trick to taking this off." He held Spirit in one hand and took out a regular ball point pen, sticking its tip into a tiny, easily over looked hole that snapped the band open. Spirit returned, holding his lower back.

"Why the hell did you wait so long to let me out of there, huh?"

"You would be distracting if I let you out too soon." Stein shrugged.

"No I wouldn't have! I'm an excellent teacher's assistant! I'm the best teacher's assistant ev-" Stein put the band back on his wrist and after more sparks and girly screaming he again propped the scythe over one shoulder.

"As I was saying before, Kid, you and the girls will travel to Russia tomorrow. Black Star, you and Maka and Soul are going to help us with a sting operation here in the states."

"Awesome!" Black Star cheered. "We're going to be like a swarm of wasps we're going to sting them so hard! Right, Tsubaki?" Before his weapon could reply Stein interrupted.

"Tsubaki can only be used for her dummy star and smoke bomb abilities. Any other form is far too dangerous."

"Yea no problem!" Star smiled. Tsubaki seemed a little less thrilled.

"In Soul's escape earlier this week he managed to kill one man we did ID as Karl Titov." Stein didn't need to mention how they had found the head on the side of the road. "He has a brother named Pavel who has been seen in the area." Soul ran a hand through his hair, as if just remembering made him sweat. The whole thing was making Liz more and more uncomfortable. "We're going to use Soul as bait to capture Pavel. Maka with your soul perception and Black Star's soul pulse abilities with Tsubaki to assist if needed, the four of you should be able to capture him. Of course we'll stand by if things get too bad. Remember this is a capture mission. We plan on interrogating him for more information."

"Understood." Maka nodded.

"I am really sorry all of you kids have to go through this." Shinigami-sama tilted a little to the side. "But I know we'll be able to stop all of this before it gets out of hand."

"That's all. The seven of you are excused from school to prepare for your missions." Stein said. "Good luck, and contact us if you have any questions."

The halls were still empty when they left. "I have a few strategies in mind already for our mission." Maka said.

"No need, Tsubaki and I have it covered. Just put Soul out in the open with a big fat bow on 'im and we'll take care of it."

Soul scoffed. "And how do you plan on doin that if you can't use her weapon forms?" He didn't seem to like the idea of being bait.

"They just said she can't be caught." Star grinned wide. "To me, that's no problem. I'm faster, bigger and stronger than god, so what's some dumbass gunna do?"

"So you're going to risk Tsubaki because of your pride?" Maka frowned.

"It's ok." Tsubaki's quiet voice caught all their attention. "I trust Black Star."

"See? What's there to worry about?" Black Star folded his arms behind her head as they walked. "Besides don't we always risk our weapons? Isn't all weapons in trouble with everything's that's going on? If I had to lose her, which would never ever _ever _happen, I'd rather do it fighting than in some new legal bull, you know?" Black Star's point set silence over the group for a moment before Maka turned her attention to Kid.

"Good luck on your mission in Russia." She offered a pleasant grin and Kid simply nodded, still deeply contemplating all the pieces at play here. Once they left the front doors of the school Kid paused and the Thompson sisters staid at his side as Maka and the others went ahead.

"It's snowy in Russia, right? I'll get to make snow angels!" Patty smiled.

"We're going on very important mission, Patty, I don't think there'll be time for snow angels." Liz hushed her, waiting for Kid to say _something_ to give some sort of hint as to what was going through his mind.

"I couldn't help but to notice as we walked through the halls that none of the other classes were given the same demonstration and lecture that we received." Kid finally stated. "If this information was truly given for our protection, then every class would have been warned and asked to be silent about it. And if only the seven of us were asked to assist, then why would Professor Stein tell the entire class? Someone is sure to gossip about it or let it slip."

"Maybe they'll tell the other classes later today?" Liz offered but Kid just shook his head.

"I think that the situation is a great deal worse than they let on. It would be safe to assume within a weeks time that there will be press about Operation Pawn, regardless of the information given today. They only asked us to be quiet about it to help emphasize how serious the situation is, or help pairs begin to prepare emotionally and mentally for the worst. If Father is turning to us, then it is likely that they are out of options and running out of time."

"But if everyone knows then that's bad." Patty said, edging closer to him, Kid's normal static expression softening a little.

"Yes, it is. That is why we must find the head of the operation and bring his true intentions to light before he can slander Shibusen and allow human opinion and bureaucracy to tear it apart."

"But we're just supposed to find Azusa, remember?" Liz protested "We can't just go flying into some head quarters where they capture and kill weapons and _death scythes_ and demand to speak to management!"

"Given the circumstances, it is likely that Azusa is not even in Russia anymore or if she is, it is unlikely that she'd be recoverable. Father and Stein are expecting us to go ahead and try to capture the head, just as how they know that Black Star would never restrict his use of Tsubaki. They don't say these things outright because they trust us to do more than what is asked. It's a subtle ploy of manipulation that works on foolish people like Black Star."

"And you, apparently." Liz's arms were crossed tightly under her chest, one hip cocked and a frown on her face. "I vote that we just stick to the plan. We go in there, scout around and head home. Who agrees?" Liz looked to Patty who only looked between Kid and Liz with a growing pout. "Augh, fine. But if things go down, you'll fly us out of there, right?"

"Of course. The last thing I intend to allow is your capture." He had said it so sincerely, meeting Liz with his deep, golden eyes that all her protests went right out the window. Her defensive, angry stance relaxed and she put her hands in her pockets.

"After all of this, you owe us a trip to the spa."

"Yay spa!"

"Agreed."

AN: Wow what a work out! Next time I decide to do a story with all major canon, I think I'll reconsider. I have all new respect for Atsushi Okubo. One shots with just one or two characters sound better and better all the time. If you have questions, concerns or disagreements about the theory that I have going on in this chapter, please feel free to ask in the reviews or PM me.


	4. Daisy

A/N: I suggest listening to Daisy by Brand New for this chapter, especially with the dramatic parts!

Beloved Helpless

Chapter Four

"Pass the popcorn!" Black Star held out his hand, unable to look away from the show.

Tsubaki sighed at his misplaced enthusiasm. Many times she had been impressed with Black Star's fearlessness, but right now in this particular situation, it seemed just a little inappropriate. It was the day after Stein's lecture and they were in the middle of a very important mission that was incredibly dangerous for all of them, but there he was, perched on the edge of the roof top, stuffing massive hand fulls of popcorn into his mouth. As if there was no way they could fail. As if there wasn't a risk or, that perhaps the risk wasn't worth worrying about. She swallowed that thought.

"Oh man! You're missing it, Tsubaki." He patted the spot next to him, not looking away from below.

"Black Star, we're supposed to be keeping a look out." She shuffled a little, looking at the crowds of people below who had begun to watch as well. Besides, it wasn't as if they hadn't seen this show before.

In the city square below Tsubaki and Black Star, Soul and Maka were giving quite the performance. They had been shouting at each other for a good ten minutes in front of all the towns people and at this point it had escalated into something close to physical.

They had decided, the four of them, to recreate that night at the pizzeria but of course on a bigger scale. It was always supposed to be bigger in Black Star's opinion. Maka had written a script and Soul had done a pretty good job of sticking to it. They'd start with talking about how he had forgotten to take out the trash. He'd call her controlling, she'd call him lazy, it went on from there. Since they didn't know who might be working with Pavel Titov, the more people who would see their argument, the better, so the town square was best. Another disconnect between weapon and technician meant another opportunity for their enemy to make a move. Once he did make a move, it would be over. Maka, Black Star and Tsubaki would be prepared, and capturing the Russian arms dealer and kidnapper would be easy. In theory, of course.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe anything you say?" Maka shouted, toe to toe with Soul. He had wondered about her script when she had handed it to him, asking himself how much of it had been fiction and how much were things she really meant. Everything you write comes from somewhere in you, right? "We've lived together for years and you act like you don't even know me!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked with a sneer, but couldn't help but to glance at the people who had stopped to watch. He could practically feel them watching, waiting for blows to be exchanged like people watching a Nascar race on the edge of their seats, waiting for the crash.

Maka saw his attention was shifting and she grabbed his shirt. She had to keep him focused and push him for a realistic performance. If Pavel knew this was all a set up, everything would blow up in their faces. He could prepare a counter ambush and then they could lose everything.

"You know what I'm talking about!"

"What does it even matter to you?" he shouted back, pulling his shirt from her grip. "What does it matter if I look at some girls? You don't own me!" He could feel a tug, meeting her eyes with his own. She was begging him to focus, to push. There was worry for their safety, there was trust as well. Kind of like the game where you fall back and let the other catch, just this was in throwing blows and trusting that the other would forgive.

Maybe it was time to move from the script a little...

"You're my weapon, aren't you?" Maka frowned. "You're supposed to listen to me!" Those were the written words. "You're supposed to care about what I have to say!" Those were not.

"Maybe I would care about what you had to say if it wasn't always about you, or school, or how much I screw up all the time!"

"Yeah, like you ever say anything good about me!" She shouted back. "You make jokes about my boobs and my cooking. You don't ever compliment me! You never say thank you!"

"Just look at you, can you blame me?"

The sound of her hand on the side of his face was loud and the crowd who had stopped to watch whispered and commented. The race car had finally skidded into a wall.

"You are the worst person in the world." Maka clenched her fists at her side. They had gone off the script. If he said that, then there had to be some truth to it, right? She was looking to coax some truthful subtext into his lines, however, Soul's intention was to get true, real anger from her, saying whatever was necessary.

He turned his face back to her, expression blank.

"Look around you. Any of these women are a thousand times better looking than you with half the issues. I'm only with you to be a death scythe. After that, I don't give a damn. I'm way too cool for a no tit little girl with mental problems."

It wasn't true, it wasn't true, he was just saying it for the performance. It didn't lessen the sting. "Good." She swallowed the lump in her throat, steadying her hatred filled gaze on him. "Because I'm only using you to get back at my father. After that I was going to get rid of you. Everyone knows the technician does everything! I'm the one that moves you. I'm the one that risks my body! Without me, you're just a paper weight, a letter opener with an ego! You're nothing without me!" Subtext be damned, she was just saying anything to keep up with him now, throwing punches to keep from faltering, losing.

"Without a weapon, techs are just glorified humans." Soul scoffed. "You're not special without me. You're just like everyone else and don't act like I never did anything for you." Was he really going there? Maka braced herself for the emotional blow he was preparing. "I almost died saving you because you were careless. Some amazing tech you are."

The logic was dulling, the awareness of the mission, the idea that this was supposed to be a fake fight was fading. It was just sting for sting, jab for jab.

"They're totally off the script." Black Star put the popcorn down, pulling the papers into his lap. Tsubaki watched with worry. She could feel this argument was heading to a dark and dangerous place.

"When are you going to get over that?" Maka's voice showed the slightest hint of cracking. "No one asked you to do that, I would have been fine and taken it with half the complaining!"

It was his fists that clenched at that.

"The scar you would have ended up with would be just another reason why no one in their right mind would ever wanna see you naked." She threw a punch but he dodged it, putting space between the two of them. He knew all the hints in her movements, knowing very well how Maka threw her punches. Fine, if she couldn't land physical blows, she had a few emotional ones she could toss his way.

"It's no wonder why your family threw you out."

Everything stopped for Soul at that. "What?"

"You heard me. You're a failure at everything you do. You can't play piano, you're too much of an embarrassment to fit in with them so they passed you off like an unwanted dog to me! I hardly even had to ask and you were so pathetic that you followed. But even as a weapon you can hardly keep up. If your weapon form wasn't so rare even I wouldn't want you!"

Maka was winning. She could see it in his pose, how his head lowered, how his fists were balled so tight the fingers had turned red and then white. The words said up until this point had brought her down to her most basic of drives. To win. Just a few more blows and she'd win for sure. To repay pain with pain until she was the only one standing. To win.

For Soul, now there wasn't a mission. There wasn't a script. There weren't people watching, or anything else. Just him, moving forward.

"Do you think that they boast about you at family gatherings, or pretend you were never born?"

There wasn't thought. There was nothing but the cut of her words.

"You pretend that you're cool. You pretend that when people whisper when you walk by they're talking about how great you are, but really they're talking about how much they pity you."

There wasn't Soul or Maka. Just anger. Rage. Hurt.

He just moved forward.

"You shout about how you'd die for me because you're a weapon, but the truth is that you know your life is a pointless failure and the only way you can make it worth anything is if you die protecting me!"

There was a horrible crack and Maka stumbled to the side. She lost her footing and landed on the rough cobblestones.

For a moment, for a breath, the world had stopped.

Once the ringing stopped, Maka drew a slow, shaking breath. There were people staring at her. What was going on again? Her eyes widened as she sat up slowly and touched her cheek which throbbed as much as her knees and hip from her fall. Soul had..._hit _her? She had won and the audience had seen the five car pile up they had been wishing for, yet none moved to help her. Soul was gone.

Black Star gritted his teeth and moved to jump down, but Tsubaki grabbed his shoulder. "If you go down there now, all of that pain would have been for nothing."

"But! You saw what he did!"

"I know." She looked down as Maka got up to her feet and the crowd dissipated. "Soul's on the move. We need to stay focused on the mission."

Black Star growled in frustration. "Fine, but after all this, I'm gunna let him have it. Show or not, that was way too far!"

Tsubaki wasn't going to argue about the double standard there, how Maka hit Soul often in jest and in anger, or argue the fact that it was Maka who had gone over the line first. The first goal had been met and that was what mattered. Besides, Soul and Maka had endured worse things and came out stronger. She followed her partner from roof top to roof top tracking Soul from above as he ran. Maka could use her soul perception to find them later after she composed herself.

Soul pressed his back against the cold bricks in some alley blocks and blocks away. He could hardly catch his breath with how hard his heart was beating. He had hit her. He had hit Maka. It hadn't just been any slap, he had sent her to the ground, stumbling and scraping across the cobblestones. They had screamed and fought and shouted and betrayed all of their darkest secrets in front of crowds of people. This had to have been the worst mission plan out there, because he knew _knew_ that even if everything went smoothly there was never any going back after that. It couldn't be like before. There'd always be that one time she had pushed too far, when he lost control.

_You enjoyed it, letting her have a taste of what she does to you._ Soul pressed his eyes closed. Now was not the time for this. _Feels good letting go of reason sometimes, doesn't it?_

"That was quite a noise you made back there." The heavy accented voice was a welcoming distraction. Pavel approached Soul, wearing a long black trench coat this time that was almost too big for him. From under the extra length of the sleeve Soul could see the man clench his hands, the leather of the modulator gloves he was wearing creaked, the metal scraping against itself slightly. "Sorry I did not come to see you sooner, I had to go home and bury my brother, or what you left of him."

Soul swallowed, backing up just a bit into the dead end alley. He had to play it cool. "I think cutting off his head might have increased his IQ points."

Pavel's face grew red with rage. He took off the coat showing off the gloves.

'_This is another device we have encountered. If you see it and you are a weapon, your only option is to flee.'_

Two other men slipped into the alley, flanking Pavel on either side so that there was no way for Soul to escape.

_' It grabs the weapon's soul, rips and distorts the core...' _

Where the hell were the others? The end of the alley was only five feet behind Soul, and the murderous look on Pavel's face didn't make him feel any more at ease. Soul shifted his arm into a blade and braced himself, trying to calculate some way to get up and over the three men in front of him.

'_If a weapon survives, it can cause mental damage...'_

Pavel rushed forward and the afternoon light glinted off the bronze colored metal on the gloves. His arms were wide, ready to grab and rip everything away.

This was it. The heel of Soul's shoe brushed against the alley's dead end. There was no where to go but forward. He pressed his foot against the bricks and pushed off of it, rushing head long towards the three men.

'..._severe personality disorders...'_

Pavel chuckled inwardly. He had defeated so many weapons before, but this would be special. He would relish the boy's screams for the death of his brother. He'd make him beg. All he'd need is one touch, one connection.

'..._insanity and comas...' _

Soul raised his blade high before closing his eyes. This was his one chance. If it messed up, then it was over. It had to work if for no other reason than to apologize. He had to make it up to her. One breath in, one breath out, three feet separated him and them. In one quick motion he brought his arm down, but not as a blade, but staff. The end hit the ground and he jumped, feeling the staff flex.

"No!" Pavel dived forward trying to grab anything as Soul pole vaulted up and over but only grasped air since the young weapon was careful to return his arm to normal once he was air born. Pavel stumbled forward, fists clenched. How dare he...how dare he make a fool of him!

"Look at what we caught!" Black Star beamed, the four of them standing side by side at the mouth of the alley, the three men now trapped in their own ambush. Second stage of the sting: complete. Now all that was left was the capture.

"Finally it's our turn to take the stage! Maka, Soul you take out the two monkeys on the side, Tsubaki and I got the one in the middle." Of course before anyone could argue, Tsubaki changed and Black Star dashed forward, her short ninjato blade in hand. Yes, he knew the risk, but the risk of people like this guy having something like those gloves was much worse. Pavel readied himself, eyes focused on the glint of Tsubaki.

'_It has never happened__, but if a weapon were to endure that and not end up dead...'_

Maka wiped off her forehead. It had taken a little longer than she had hoped to knock out the poor hired henchman, but over all, she was satisfied. She looked over at Soul who had just finished up his own by pushing the man's face down into the ground with his foot. When Soul looked her way Maka quickly looked away, arms crossed.

The small Russian man was fast, faster than someone would guess just looking at him. Pavel had done a good job of ducking and dodging Black Star's attacks so far, but soon he felt the cold, hardness of the dead end on his back. And Black Star had been so disappointed. After hearing Soul's story about being caught last time, he had hoped for a real fight. He had let everyone make him worry for nothing! This little guy was a joke hiding behind technology. He didn't know anything about fighting or what it meant to be a weapon or meister. He was just greedy and cruel and that kind of person was one of Black Star's favorite kinds of guys to beat up on!

"Don't be careless." He heard Tsubaki warn as he dashed forward for a finishing blow. His aim was the man's side. The spleen, namely. A removable organ that would cause minor internal bleeding and would make it really hard for him to get away. One slice and it would be over with. The fear in Pavel's expression shifted to an evil grin that made Black Star catch his breath in his throat. Pavel had wanted this, his hands were ready to catch the blade and there was too much forward momentum to stop. They were too close, he was too fast.

He had been careless.

'_That person would never be able to resonate or use their weapon form again...'._

The sound of the tip of Tsubaki's blade entering the man was interrupted by the scraping of metal on the metal on the palms of the gloves. But it was the sound of her scream that shook Black Star the most. It was the sound of pain on the deepest level. Their connection wavered, flickered and he could feel that monster ripping her soul away from his. Black Star could let go. He could throw enough punches and soul pulses to kill the man in moments, but if he let go it would disconnect himself from Tsubaki and leave her and her soul entirely in Pavel's hands. Instead, Black Star closed his eyes and held tight to her wavelength as he pressed the blade deeper into Pavel's body. The metal plates on the palms scraped and ground against her metal as he pushed, as Pavel tried to grip and hold tight. He tried to coax her into a different form, one that would free her from his grip, like smoke bomb, but her soul was in too much pain to understand the command.

"Stay back!" Black Star yelled when he heard his friends rushing over to help. If they interfered it would break his concentration. "We've got this." Tsubaki's continued screams might suggest otherwise.

She was clinging to his wavelength, clinging to Black Star's soul with all her might, as if he held her under her arms as Pavel was trying to tear her away by the hips. The tug of war was taking its toll. The metal of her blade creaked, the noise threatening that the blade would warp, possibly break and if a weapon broke in battle then neither side would win. Pavel would have no weapon to take, Black Star would have to bury his partner. There was only one other option.

"Hold on, Tsubaki!" He yelled before sending an extraordinarily large soul pulse, using her as a conductor. The gloves sparked before smoking and Pavel screamed in pain as the shock attacked him from the inside out.

The man slumped forward, and his hands fell to his sides. They had won.

Black Star jerked Tsubaki out of Pavel and in an instant she shifted back, limp in his arms.

"Tsubaki! Hey, c'mon,wake up." Black Star patted her cheek. "You did great, but you gotta show me them eyes now, ok?" She offered no response.

Soul rushed over, pressing his fingers to her neck. "She's alive. Hurry and get her to Stein, Maka and I will finish this up." Black Star just stared at Tsubaki. Why wasn't she moving? Why wouldn't she wake up? "What are you waiting for? Go!" Soul shoved him.

Black Star snapped out of it and rushed ahead with her in his arms. Soul sighed and looked back to Maka who looked pale. "What?"

"Her soul..." Maka looked on the verge of tears as she let her eyes meet his. He closed the distance between them slowly.

"I'm sure they'll-"

"You didn't see it." He reached out to touch her shoulder but she dodge him. "And don't touch me. Let's get these guys to Shibusen and then figure out where you're staying tonight." Maka walked ahead, grabbing the modulator gloves from Pavel before yelling in anger and slamming them against the wall again and again. Why did things like these even exist? Why didn't humans understand all any of them wanted to do was help? No one deserved to be treated that way! To be used as an object, to be denied human rights, to be killed and sold and tortured! Tsubaki never did anything to anyone! When all that was left in her hands were scraps of leather, Maka let them go and clenched her fists, hating the tears that ran down her cheeks.

Soul watched with a heavy heart. There really was no going back. Tsubaki was hurt on a level he couldn't comprehend, his relationship with Maka was hurt in a way he couldn't fix. And he could feel a bit of bitterness filter over the both of them towards the men here and the others like them. The image of humans as the beloved helpless was gone.

Black Star waited in the hallway, breathlessly replaying the fight in his mind. Careless, so, so careless. It was his fault, all his fault. He should have predicted that the man had just pretended to be so useless, he should have guessed he'd allow a blow just to get close to her. Everyone had told him, they warned him not to use her but he did anyway. He could have taken Pavel down without Tsubaki but he was so sure that he'd be too smart, too fast. That he, they...she was invincible.

"Black Star." Stein's voice caught his attention but he didn't dare to look up at him. "You should have listened when I told you not to use her." Black Star regretted telling him all the details of the fight. He didn't say anything to deny it and Stein sighed, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "She's awake if you want to see her."

Black Star looked up at him in surprise before smiling and jumping up. "I knew she'd be ok! Next time you tell your dumb lecture you can make a special speech about how we were the first to take on those gloves and come out unscratched! I really am higher than God!"

"She's not without injury." Stein frowned before opening the door and ushering Black Star inside. There, on the bed sat Tsubaki with her legs off the edge of the bed, looking out the window with her back to the door.

"Tsubaki!" He cheered, rushing forward and jumping on the bed to hug her from behind. "You're ok!" She didn't giggle or turn her head to look at him. She just sat there in his arms. "Tsubaki?" He let go of her and walked around to her side of the bed to see her still sitting there staring out the window. Her eyes... Black Star took a small step back. They were dull and unfocused, completely devoid of their normal gentle sparkle and kindness. Black Star waved a hand in front of her and she blinked, looking up at him but her blank expression didn't change, her eyes still vacant.

"She's still waking up, right? I mean, I get like this after a long nap." Black Star asked, looking at Stein who stood by the foot of the bed. "She'll wake up all the way in a few minutes and we'll go home and she'll fix dinner and everything'll be fine! Right?" Stein just shook his head slowly.

"We sometimes refer to this as a 'waking coma.' She hears and responds to simple commands but she's not fully aware of what's going on. It's likely you'll have to take care of her. Cook for her, help her bathe. Or if that's too much of a hassle, we can send her home to Japan."

"No! I've got it. There's ways to fix this right?" He stepped closer to Stein. "If I resonate with her then-"

"If you do that, you might shake apart the last fibers of her soul that are still intact. It's shredded from the core to the outside from the pulling, and swollen from the shock of your soul pulse while it was in such a stressed position."

"If I didn't do that she would have broken!"

"She's broken either way." There was silence after that and Stein regretted for a moment his bluntness. "Take her home and take care of her and don't worry about returning to school until she's better or gone."

He wanted to punch that screw-headed freak in the face for even suggesting a negative outcome. He wanted to find something, anything to take all of this rage out on but right now... he looked back at Tsubaki who silently, distantly watched the two of them like some precious doll. Right now, he had to concentrate on helping her. There had been so many times she had taken care of him after battles. She had stayed by his side and cared for his wounds without any sort of complaint. It didn't matter what Stein or anyone else thought or said. She'd be ok. He'd be sure of it.

Black Star took her hand. "Can you stand?" She stood without a word and he led her a step from the bed. She walked with a strange lightness in this condition, not the normal feminine reserve but an almost weightless trance-like motion as she followed him. Without a word of thanks to Stein, Black Star led Tsubaki by the hand back home.

Their apartment was dark, cool and most painfully silent. Black Star ushered Tsubaki in and showed her to her bedroom and he had her sit on her bed.

"Can you talk?" She just stared. "What's my name?" Black Star forced a grin and pointed at himself but it faded into sadness when all that resounded was silence. "Please, just say it. I know you can do it. Say Black Star." He swallowed a lump in his throat when she continued to just stare at him.

"Say it!" He took her shoulders. "I need you to say my name, please! Say anything!" He was frantic for any sign she was ok, not just breathing, but really alright. Despite himself, his eyes watered as he shook her softly. "Please just try." All of his life he had shouted his name so the world would know it, but at this moment he'd do anything to hear her say it, just once, in anger, in pain, in sadness, in happiness or all of the above! Two little words would make everything right! It didn't matter if he fell into the darkness of obscurity as long as she would remember, would speak and acknowledge him.

Some of her bangs fell over her gaze and he let go of her and stubbornly rubbed at his own eyes, drying any hints he had let any tears slide. Why had this happened? Why had he let this happen? People. Humans had done this to them. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. Tsubaki wouldn't want him to think that way. He had to stay strong, right? Even when she was scared for him, he could recall that brave, happy face she'd make above him. So he copied that, putting on the thin, frail, happy mask over his face and ignored the pounding of his breaking heart.

"We had one heck of a day huh?" Black Star moved to take out her ponytail, gently unwrapping it. "Why don't you take a nap and you just leave the cooking to me and we can keep working on your rehabilitation later. Everything will be fine." When her hair fell free, his heart stuttered, holding some of it in his hand. What...what would he have done if it had ended differently? What if this living ghost of Tsubaki was replaced with something much more quiet, much more still? If she lost the ability to be a weapon, he'd never forgive himself. That was her family legacy, that was part of who she was and he couldn't imagine ever wielding anyone else. He shook his head and found her hairbrush and began to gently brush out the tangles. There was the shifting noise as the bristles moved through her hair, but other than that there was only silence where there had once been laughter and joyful shouting.

She, he, they were broken either way.


	5. Starduster

A/N: This wasn't supposed to be chapter 5. I had intended chapter 5 to be about Kid, Liz and Patty and their mission in Russia. What was supposed to be a mentioned update on how the other characters were doing became page after page about Black Star and Tsubaki. Because you know Black Star, it's gotta be about him. But I couldn't seem to stop myself and soon the chapter was hijacked, so much so, that all the build up I had for the Death Trio seemed out of place. So, I looked at my outline for the story and found that this actually works best anyway!

**This chapter's song is "Starduster" by Miku Hatsune (Vocaloid**) I suggest Rockleetist's English version here: .com/watch?v=aa-ky-9NHTg It's a cute reverse-narrative that maybe reflects Tsubaki's feelings as we read about Black Star and his realizations. I dunno, I adore this song. Anyways, enjoy!

**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter 5**

"_Why don't you take a nap, and you just leave the cooking to me, and we can keep working on your rehabilitation later? Everything will be fine."_

By the time evening settled over Death City, Death the Kid, Liz and Patty were just landing safely in Moscow. At that time, Black Star was carefully wrapping his right palm. The TV was on full blast to fight the quiet, and the window was open, allowing in the warm, thick night air in exchange for smoke. In the sink, dishes were piled high, food was spilled on the floor and counter. On the stove was the treacherous pan that had burnt him and in that were four strips of charred beef. In a pot next to that was a pile of burnt rice. Hours of trying had left him with just that much. Much heavier than the air, thicker than the smoke that had filled it, much more painful than the burn on his hand was the feeling of failure. A strange new sensation of helplessness.

Black Star took a moment to clear his mind, taking a slow breath in, a slow breath out. He closed his eyes to try and find peace, to keep hold of the control over his thoughts and emotions and breathing. But instead, he could only think of her. The countless times Tsubaki stood here in front of this stove, working magic to produce some of the best food he had ever eaten. Even when missions ran long and they were both exhausted, even when she was sick or mad, she had always done this much for him. And he had always taken the food she offered, and ate it without thought. It seemed so natural, so easy for her, and yet. Yet. He couldn't even make a decent pot of rice in return. The man who was supposed to be higher than god couldn't prepare one meal on his own.

Heavily, Black Star sat in a nearby chair and dialed a Chinese restaurant for delivery, ordering just enough for Tsubaki. While he waited for her food to arrive, he sat at the table by himself and brought the bitter meat to his lips. He was the one who had cooked it, who had wasted the food. It was his fault it was bad. It was his fault that he had to cook at all. What had happened was _his fault_, so the least he could do was choke down the failure in the shape of hard white and black rice and flaking black meat. It was bitter and tough and painful to swallow.

Feeding her was a new experience. Tsubaki sat there, staring at him with those big glass cobalt eyes, and when he brought the freshly delivered Chinese food close to her lips, she'd open her mouth for the spoonful of rice he had in hand. She'd chew when she saw him make the same motion and swallow when she saw him stretch his neck in exaggerated example. After five or six times she was able to do the motions by verbal command, and by time most of the food was finished she was able to chew and swallow by memory.

"Great job." He smiled, feeling pride for the both of them. It was such a welcomed emotion in place of all the sour ones that he kept swatting away like bugs. Since there was a little bit of rice left in the carton, Black Star got up and moved behind her, leaning close enough so that his chest met her back. Carefully, he took her hand and put the spoon in her palm, gently curling her fingers around it. It was strange though, how nice this felt. Soon his focus wavered from teaching her how to use the spoon to how she was so warm, how comfortable this was, being close like this. When he didn't move, Tsubaki turned her head to look over her shoulder, her face, her lips so close to his. Those vacant eyes snapped him out of it and he shook his head.

"Sorry, started daydreaming. Now, pay attention, ok?" Tsubaki turned her head forward again and Black Star let out a sigh of relief. He guided her hand for one spoonful and let go to watch her manage, although a little clumsily, to bring the spoon to her lips, chew the food and swallow on her own.

One hurdle finished, one left to go: bathing. He left her in the living room in front of the TV while he drew the bath for her. As the water filled and the mirrors fogged, Black Star recalled all those times they played the peeping game. He would work so hard to suppress his presence to be able to catch a glimpse of Tsubaki bathing. Now she wouldn't be able to do it at all without his help. This was his big chance to see and touch all he wanted!

_'Black Star!'_ He could practically feel the sting of her ninja star for just thinking about it. No, taking advantage of her now wouldn't be the godly thing to do, even if it would be totally cool. Maybe he should call a girl to come and take care of this? No, Maka was way too upset from that afternoon and Liz and Patty were gone and god knows what Blair might do to her if left alone. Nope, he'd have to deal with this on his own. He had to man up! Black Star puffed out his chest.

"I can do this! It's not a big deal! It's not like I haven't seen naked girls before!" He laughed, hands on his hips. He knew that videos and the real thing couldn't compare, just like those nameless girls couldn't compare to Tsubaki. And he'd have to run his hands over her slick body, _all_ of her body. Lather it with soap, rinse her curves of bubbles-oh god, this wasn't helping. Not to mention he'd have to undress her in the first place, dry her off, dress her again.

"Hi, Nygus. Yea, I know it's late. Could you come over, please?" Black Star asked, red faced, his voice betraying over the phone all the embarrassment he was feeling. When the mummy-styled knife weapon came over, Black Star reluctantly explained what had happened.

"I'll take care of her tonight, but you're going to have to do this on your own, eventually. Why don't you watch this time so you'll know what to do?" Black Star opened his mouth, but she quickly continued. "No one will judge you on how you react."

She reached out and ruffled his hair. "She's your partner and when she's well, I'm sure she will understand. Besides, with as many times as you've been injured, you don't think she's had to clean you once or twice?" Black Star's jaw dropped at that.

"I never thought about that! She always acted so innocent, but she's had her hands all over me when I've been out of it!" He looked at Tsubaki with a suspicious glare. She knew him. _Knew_ him. It made him shudder a little, even if it was a little _exciting_.

"Try to be a little mature?" Nygus sighed. "If you're not cleaned when you're injured, you could develop infections. You think girls actually want to do that kind of thing?"

"They do when it's someone as _big_ as me!" He laughed, and when Nygus didn't seemed amused he stepped a bit closer to her. "Did you ever have to clean Sid that way when he wasn't a zombie?" The suggestive waggle of his eyebrows made her roll her eyes and move to take Tsubaki's hand to lead her down the hall.

"Are you coming?"

"Not ye-I mean yes."

"Now, I know you probably know all about this part." Nygus said with unintentional sarcasm. The three of them were crammed into the small bathroom with Black Star leaning on the bathroom doorway. He couldn't look away as she removed Tsubaki's soft collar, her arm coverings, garter and stockings. Black Star had to turn to ninja breathing techniques to control his thoughts and 'blood flow.' After that was Tsubaki's belt and before he could prepare himself, Nygus pulled her dress up and over her head. Underneath was a matching black bra and panty set with the slightest hint of lace.

"Go ahead and oogle, get it out of your system." Nygus sighed, waiting for Black Star to blink and close his gaping jaw. When it took too long she simply removed the girl's bra. No sooner had Nygus finished undressing Tsubaki had Black Star fainted into the hallway.

In his defense, it had been a long, long day, with more events and emotions than the young tech knew what to do with. When he came to, Nygus was still leaning over the edge of the tub, washing Tsubaki's back.

"Hey, just in time. I really need to go, there's been an emergency. All you have to do is rinse her off."

"But-"

"Look, think about this as a way to understand Tsubaki a little more. I have to go." She easily jumped over Black Star and hurried from the apartment. A way to understand her more? Black Star swallowed and scooted over to the tub. Tsubaki was leaning forward, her chest resting agaist her knees. The soap and water level hid what her knees didn't. Carefully he reached into the water and found the rag and moved it across her back. She'd never let him do this if she wasn't in this condition, so being this close, being so trusted, it certainly was new.

This was Tsubaki's body, her flesh, the curve of her back with the slightest hint of her spine. Bones, skin and muscle. This was the girl who accepted him, who never asked him to be anyone but himself. This was the person who supported him when others ran away. This was the home of the soul he knew so well. It seemed odd to have such a realization, that she was a person with a body, like him. It wasn't that he hadn't thought of her as a person. It was just easy to forget when you lack this sort of closeness, this kind of contact, skin on skin. Black Star knew her other forms, he was intimate with the curves of her steel, the weight of her chains. For him, that was the most concrete knowledge of her in his mind. Her human form had always been something he saw from a distance, clothed or otherwise. He let the rag fall and just let his hand rest on her back. He could feel her pulse just under his fingertips, feel her ribs expand and contract as she breathed. His eyes fell on how her hair floated in the water like curls of smoke, how her cheeks turned pink from the warmth of the water. The lust-driven attention to her sex appeal melted away and all that was left was true admiration. She was truly beautiful. Inside and out. With a deep breath, Black Star stood.

"Ok, time to rinse off." He took her hand and helped her to stand. As she did and she emerged from the soapy water, Black Star couldn't help a small smile. He truly was the luckiest, stupidest meister on the face of the earth. There was so much about her that he simply over looked, cheapened with hormones or took for granted.

"When you're better, I'm going to make it all up to you." He swallowed, taking her hands into his. "I'm gunna make up for getting you in this mess, and not really appreciating your amazing cooking, and-and for looking at you like some blow up doll instead of who you really are. I prom-" She reached out and touched his cheek, the blank gaze of her eyes showing the tiniest hint of worry. He hadn't noticed that his eyes had begun to water, but she had. He held her hand there against his cheek and let one or two fall. She had reacted and his heart simply couldn't handle all the happiness.

Rinsing her off, drying and dressing her was a lot easier with this new realization. He tucked her into bed.

"Go to sleep, so tomorrow we can work even harder to get you back to normal." He patted her head and she closed her eyes. Black Star stood and walked to the doorway and stopped to look back at her. There was such a warm feeling in his chest. Was it just happiness that they had made so much progress or was it...? Nah. He turned off the light and closed the door.

Black Star soon found out he sucked at cleaning as much as he sucked at cooking. It was close to dawn when he was finally able to get some sleep. That next morning, he stumbled groggily down the hallway towards the kitchen. When he had cleaned the night before, he found a few cook books and planned to use them.

"Round two! This time I'll win for sure with my secret weapons! No one can defeat the great Black Star!" He laughed at the empty room as he opened the book and flipped through, but paused at the sight of Tsubaki's handwriting on the pages. 'Tried 3/20, Black Star really loves this one!' 'Add a teaspoon more sugar to this dish.' There were notes, dates, little memos to herself about which ones he liked and how he liked them. The loudest boaster of his greatness was silent in awe. She always put him first. Well it was time to turn the tables!

"What the heck is a tsp? Is that even a word? Fold? How do you fold eggs into a mixture? It's all wet you can't grab it with your hands! K-ne-ad? Ugh! None of this makes sense! If only Tsubaki could show me what this stuff means-oh! There's tv shows about this crap, isn't there?" He wasn't one for taking notes in school, that stuff was for lowly mortals and not gods like him, but this was for Tsubaki! He took a pad of paper and settled in front of the TV, and turned to any cooking shows that were on.

A shuffle caught his attention during his seventh episode of Cooking with Julia Child. Tsubaki stood there in the entrance of the living room with her head bent just slightly.

"Tsubaki, what are you doing out of bed? Wa-you're moving around on your own? This is great!" He bounded up and hugged her before noticing the wall clock. "It's two o'clock? Ugh, no wonder my stomach's been growling. I bet you're starving too, huh? Just sit here and I'll cook something great, ok? Something _so awesome_ it'll wake you right up and you'll praise me forever and ever and ask me where I got my godly cooking powers from!" He was so proud when she just sat on her own without having to be shown to the couch personally. This was really exciting, almost as exciting as when he had a new martial arts technique to try out!

But he was in the kitchen for only a moment before he shuffled back into the living room with his shoulders slumped.

"I wasted all the food last night. Looks like we'll have to go shopping." They had roughly $80 in cash on hand after the Chinese he had ordered the night before. That would buy lots of food, right? After thinking about all the meals he'd like to try to make, and all the stuff he'd like to eat, he had a shopping list four pages long. Once he and Tsubaki were ready, Black Star took her hand and the both of them walked to the grocery store.

"No way, this stuff is expensive!" He held a jug of milk in hand with a price tag of $3.50. Black Star had been keeping track and so far there was only 15 things from his list of 90 things and he was at $79.75! He'd have to put some stuff back, but he really wanted some of it, and he'd have to recalculate how much he had in the cart and how much was available for spending and the taxes and-

"Ugh! This shouldn't be so hard! How in the world did you manage to do all of this Tsu..." He turned to see she had wandered off. "Tsubaki?"

What had once been a cramped grocery store was now a labyrinth of walls and display-hurdles. "Tsubaki!" Black Star shouted, dodging an elderly lady, looping around a man on a riding cart and somersaulting over a mother and child. He ran past the aisle he saw her in before coming back and rushing up to her, pulling her into a hug.

"Don't run off like that! Anyone could come up and take you away, you have to stay with me, ok?" He stared up at her, and she just stared back. Black Star scolded himself for getting so upset. "C'mon, we've gotta finish shopping if we want to eat."

In all, they left with just three bags of food, but it would be enough until their next allowance came in from Shibusen, if Black Star didn't mess up, that was. He'd have to plan out what he was going to cook, and figure out a more realistic shopping list and figure out how much money it would be to buy everything. It was all so complicated, and he had never noticed Tsubaki doing it before. She did it without complaint and never asked for help. It was a shame something like this would have to happen to make him realize just how hard she worked to make life easy for him. Well from now, it was going to be way more equal! He was a man, after all, he could take on some of this responsibility. As soon as she got better, because she _was_ going to get better. No doubt.

Lunch wasn't that bad, in fact, Black Star was downright proud of himself. Sure, it was just grilled cheese and tomato soup, but it was a start! Flipping the sandwiches and making sure they didn't come apart or burst into flames was a lot harder than it looked, and he only had two new burns to show for it. The soup hadn't burned either! It was creamy just as the can had advertised it would be. He sat the plate and bowl in front of Tsubaki and offered her the spoon. It just slipped from her fingers.

"Aww, try again, you had this last night." He placed it in her hand like before, but again, it just slipped from her grasp. This time he held her hand and guided the spoon to her mouth but she didn't open it.

"Open up for the soup train!" Black Star opened his own mouth wide as an example but she still just stared at him. "Are you not hungry? You don't have to worry about your figure with me," he chuckled and tried again with the same lack of response.

"Tsubaki, what's wrong? I made this for you. Just open up, I promise it's delicious." When she still just stared at him, his grin faded. Hesitantly, Black Star leaned forward and gently pulled her jaw down and let the spoonful of soup slide into her mouth before slowly tilting her head back so that she would swallow. He brought another spoonful to her mouth and when she still didn't open her mouth automatically, Black Star fed her the entire bowl of soup spoonful by spoonful, by opening her mouth and making her swallow. Why was she having trouble all of a sudden? They were making such great progress just the other day.

_What if this was the way it would be forever? What if this was how it was going to be for the rest of their lives? What if it there was no way to get her back?_

Black Star stood with a blank expression of his own and went to the kitchen to clear his mind. While he put up the loaf of bread, threw out the trash, and collected the dirty dishes, he tried to regain the positiveness that had been there that morning. Maybe she was just tired, or feeling lazy? Suddenly he wasn't that hungry, and his great shopping and cooking accomplishments of that day didn't feel that great anymore. What would any of it matter if she never recovered? It was then that he remembered that he had left her grilled cheese on her plate. He should go and get it, wrap it in something and put it up for himself later. If she couldn't handle soup on her own then she couldn't handle his sandwich of cheesy goodness.

But there she was, nibbling on the still warm grilled cheese. The sight made Black Star stop in his tracks. She was eating all on her own, holding, chewing and swallowing. He let out a loud laugh at that, laughing at himself for being so stupid for worrying! Neither one of them ever went backwards, always forwards! Always!

"Oh! That's right!" He hit his fist into his palm. "You don't usually eat tomato soup, do you? Now that I remember, you only ate the grilled cheese when you'd make it and I'd get the whole can to myself! Ah! I'm so sorry for making you eat that whole bowl!" He sat next to her. "I'll make it up to you, I'll cook your favorite thing tonight!" Wait… what was her favorite? The cook books only had records of what he liked. Black Star couldn't help but to feel guilty for not remembering about the soup, or for not knowing important things like her favorite meals, but seeing her eating on her own without any prompting or help, he couldn't help but to smile. To top it off, she must have remembered that she didn't like tomato soup, which meant she probably remembered him!

"Hey-" he wiped off her chin. "Can you say my name? Say Black Star."

She opened her mouth for the Ba, even if no sound came out. He leaned a little closer to show her the La motion and she copied it. She mimicked the wide Ah motion of the mouth and made a soft K sound as she followed his example. The space between them was slowly disappearing. The thin, wide motion of the S was as far as they got before the puckered St motion brought their lips together. A jolt went through him at the contact but he didn't dare pull away. Even if she was out of it, this wasn't bad was it? She probably wouldn't even remember that this happened, and after all that he had done to make things right, he deserved at least a little kiss, right? He pressed forward and she followed his example. After a few moments he broke the kiss with a huge grin, resting his forehead against her's.

"That's good enough for now."

Maybe this warm tingle was a little more than just pride after all.


	6. Empty Houses

A/N: OK, ok, I get it, you guys don't like random fluff in your drama/suspense/political fics. Well, this chapter is extraordinarily un-fluffy. Following the pattern of chapter 5, this chapter's just for Soul and Maka and tells what happens the evening following chapter 4 and the day after that. Next chapter is Kid and the girls in Russia, I promise!

_Also, check out my profile for previews of upcoming chapters and to hear the next chapter's soundtrack song! _

**This chapter's song is "Empty Houses" which is an instrumental song from the game Bioshock.**

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**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter 6**

Maka had burst into their apartment with all of the anger that she had, swirling in her mind. The walk home had done nothing to calm her. The humans responsible for all this mess, the pain Black Star and Tsubaki had endured, the fight with Soul, everything was wrong and she wanted to just tear it all away until there was stillness to settle into. A quiet place where there was nothing that could go wrong, nothing that could fail, hurt or betray her. And under the rage was such sadness, a deep mourning in the hurt of the things that had been said and done. But here, in the apartment, there was only one thing to take her anger out on.

"Pack your things and get out." She glared over her shoulder at Soul who had just shut the door.

_She's heading towards madness._ The imp's voice filtered just behind Soul's ears. As much as he hated it, the monster had a point. The bitterness, rage and pain building up inside of Maka was dangerous and it was shifting everything around them. This was no longer their home, but a mine field. He stood there with his back against the door, carefully choosing his path. The disaster that afternoon had blown a massive hole between them and if another bomb went off, their partnership would end up the casualty.

Maka had retreated to her room, as if the doorway would stop the ringing in her ears or the tightness in her chest.

"_You're not special without me. Don't act like I never did anything for you."_

Her desk chair creaked as she dropped herself into it.

"_I almost died saving you. Careless. Some amazing tech you are._"

Her jaw had gone numb from how hard her teeth were clenched.

"_No one in their right mind would ever wanna see you naked._ _Any of these women are a thousand times better looking than you with half the issues."_

Maka felt ill, remembering how everyone had stared at her, how he had looked at her so coldly.

"_I'm only with you to be a death scythe. I don't give a damn. I'm way too cool for a no-tit little girl with mental problems."_

Had Soul always felt this way? Had there ever been a script at all? Had he ever said an honest thing to her face? It was supposed to have been a performance, a fight of fake anger. No. The performance had been in Soul's everyday life. Every time he said anything kind to her. _That _had been the true performance. His words echoed still in her mind, swirling, warping, condensing down into their most potent forms:

"_You're not special. I'm using you. No one in their right mind would want you. No one would want you. I don't want you."_

"_You're not special. I don't want you. No one wants you."_

To be wanted. To be special. It was as if without even trying he knew her two greatest desires, her two biggest insecurities and he had blown apart the scaffolding she had begun to build around them.

_He didn't even care._

There had been a time in her life, a short, precious time Maka could only vaguely recall, when she had been both to her mother and father. She was special and wanted and fit in perfectly, so very perfectly, in their pristine family photo. When Maka was just a toddler, her parents would tell her about their adventures and it was clear they were both so very special. They were heroes! Maka would do whatever it took to be special like them! Out of love for who they were as a team. For who they were as a family.

_It was a lie._

Maka must not have been special enough, or maybe not wanted enough. Why else would her father not be happy with their home? Why else would he betray her and her mother and just tear everything apart? Had she failed? Was it something she did? Didn't he _want_ to be a family anymore? Didn't he _want_ her as a daughter? As a young adult, Maka understood the reasons a little more.

_Love wasn't real._

Adults couldn't simply want just one person, just as how her mother could no longer forgive him.

_Men deserved no forgiveness._

Even with logical answers, the pain the child had felt and her lonely questions still left a mark on her soul. So much so, it was clear it drove her now. Maka would come to Shibusen to show her father that she WAS special! So special that she'd make a better weapon and show him how special he _wasn't_! As un-special as she had felt. As she _still_ felt because he _still_ behaved the same way. He never changed, the filth on him proved that she wasn't special to him at all, no matter how much he said she was. Men never change. They never truly love. They shouldn't be fully trusted.

_She didn't need anyone._

Compared physically to other girls, Maka wasn't special. She wasn't extraordinarily beautiful, curvy, or graceful. Even her dull blond hair color was boring. It was clear that she wasn't wanted in that way by any of the male population. And while she might claim it didn't matter to her, it did. As a young woman she wanted to be desired.

_He had made it clear how ugly she was._

Compared to the other students, Maka worked herself to exhaustion to be special. To be top of the class, to be perfect. Her soul perception helped make sure that she held value. Without it, Maka would sometimes wonder if Stein would notice her as much within the class. Would they receive the same missions? Would anyone in the school know her name? Would any of them _want_ her help?

_He was just using her anyway._

And Soul… Sometimes he'd make her feel special, then he'd turn around and make some kind of rude comment. He'd act like she was wanted and then push her away. He was the only boy, man, no…_male_, that she trusted with any substantial part of her, but now he had made his stance quite clear. To him, she wasn't special or wanted, to the point that he… Maka touched her cheek and felt her eyes grow hot. He had broken all of the respect and trust she had had for him. She had trusted him, cared for him, befriended him, _picked_ him. And now that it seemed the world was losing its mind, the truth had come out. In one physical action, everything was crystal clear.

_He never wanted her._

And again, Maka would be alone. Betrayed and abandoned by a prominent male in her life because she simply wasn't special or wanted enough.

'_I need to be stronger.'_ It was a familiar thought, one that Maka would turn to at times to find the drive to push forward. But this wasn't a force that pushed her ahead but was sucking in, swirling from the thick, caustic emotions from the past mixing with current pain.

'_I need to be stronger.' _Otherwise face being hurt again. She couldn't rely on men. She couldn't rely on anyone. A grin crossed her lips despite the tears that had already slid down her cheeks.

"I need to be stronger." A heavy weight lifted from her shoulders as she let go of something. Logic, reasoning. They had been so heavy on her. Maka stood and walked to the door. It swung open with a long groaning creak before a small girl's hand reach through the door frame and took her hand, leading her into a pink bedroom. It was warm and bright, like Maka recalled her childhood bedroom to be. It was a candy coating over the dirt inside the shell. This was the pretty bedroom she had cried herself to sleep in. This was the spring inspired sanctuary that wouldn't block out the sounds of her parent's screams, even from the furthest corners of her closet.

Maka tightened her grip on the little girl's hand. "Enough with false hopes. Let's live in the truth from now on."

The small child, her younger self looked up and nodded.

* * *

Soul hesitated outside of her door, his fist raised in mid-knock. He had been caught off guard by the darkness radiating just past the white painted wood.

_Looks like you're too slow._ The imp chuckled. _It's so delicious. It wasn't some big battle with my influence through you and your blood but your own hand that snapped her. _Soul didn't reply in any way but to move to knock on her door. But his knuckles never hit the door. Not from hesitance but because he literally could not move it to make contact with the wood.

The hallway broke apart, the floorboards and walls lifted and drifted away into darkness leaving just the door to Maka's room in front of him. Next to him stood the imp with that ever-amused grin on his jagged teeth. It was different here than in the black room. Soul could see him much clearer, as if it suddenly had thickness and texture. As if somehow the lines of his mind and reality were blurring. The thing was real, free and loose here in the space where the hallway had been.

"Don't give me that look." The imp crossed his arms. "This isn't my doing."

Soul lowered his fist and glared at him. "What are you talking about? This has your evil stench all over it. Whatever you're doing, stop it. I've got more important things to do than to play around with you."

"No." The creature took a moment to scratch his head with his long yellow nail. "Uh, how do I explain this in a way you'll be able to wrap your head around?"

"I'm not stupid, you know." Soul seethed. In all honesty, Soul was distracted. It felt like Maka's wavelength was pounding out an audible rhythm around him.

"Fine, fine." The imp waved his hands before going on to explain. "Maka's soul is a powerful positive energy, right? With that horrific anti-demon wavelength of hers and all. Well, when it corrupts from the inside out, it's just as powerful in reverse with no way for it to fix its self. When your stupid ass came close, the frequencies started to jam each other, like two rusty cogs scraping and fighting to move." He had mashed his grossly oversized, cracked fingers together as example and peered up at Soul over them. Soul just stared down at him.

"What?"

"So much for not being stupid!" He shouted up at Soul, waving his oversized hands around in the air. "Think about it as the opposite of resonance. Instead of amplifying the power of your souls, they're smothering each other."

"So this really isn't you, then?" Soul looked around at the darkness. The pounding was growing louder.

"I already said that! Look, if you keep standing around, you're going to die and I'm going to be _so pissed_ because you still owe me that favor!" That got Soul's attention. "That's right, D-I-E, you got that, slow-poke?" The demon poked Soul's leg roughly.

"With the both of your souls caught up in this tangle they can't function and if they don't function you both stop breathing."

Soul was reluctant to believe anything that thing had to say, but the theory seemed legit, even though it was something they had never talked about in class. Even if it were true, if they were going to get through it he'd have to stay cool… always cool.

"All I have to do is restore reasoning with her soul." Soul's hand took the doorknob and he shivered at how cold the metal was.

"Just make it quick. I expect a much more spectacular death from you than just this."

Now that the thing mentioned it, Soul could feel a small tightness, a weight in his chest. He swallowed and turned the door knob.

When Soul stepped through, the darkness was replaced with the living room of a small home; but rather than a warm place of life, this was a place of stillness and silence. An over coat of oppressive sadness hung on Soul, slowing his breathing and drying his mouth, weighing heavy on his shoulders. It was as if the home, the very air he took in, mourned a great loss.

Here, dust filtered like snow in slow motion through the dim light beams and settled on every surface, obscuring the details under the numbing white color. There was no hint that anything had been touched, the even coat making every object look incredibly fragile. The windows had long, thin, white curtains that the light filtered through. Soul walked to the couch and touched the dry white fabric. An urge to come and sit, to stay and stare, to become one with the furniture and accept a coating of dust became clear in his mind, as if whispered by unseen lips. It would be simple. To sit. To do nothing. To simply give up. It would be peaceful. It would be quiet. Like a nap.

A coffee table laid in the center, books and magazines placed in proper piles. On the walls and bookshelves were picture frames obscured by dirt. Under foot stretched hardwood floors that creaked as he shifted his weight. The air was still and there was almost no noise, just a strange mix of the scent of vanilla and dust.

"Maka?" Soul called out, stepping carefully across the room, each step leaving behind a foot print in the years of white. A large picture frame on the wall caught his attention and Soul paused to wipe off the glass. The faces of the people were blurred and faded as if something had rubbed them away, but from the clothes you could tell it was a mother, father, and small daughter.

Soul's eyes widened as he looked around again. This was her. This place was, in a way, like his black room. A fragment of her past, a reflection of her state of mind. Maka had to be nearby.

"Maka!" Again, Soul called out as he walked into a kitchen. The white tiles on the floor were stained brownish red and Soul could hear the drip, drip, drip of foul brown water leak into a rusty sink. Cupboard doors were open and crooked on their hinges. Wide yellow countertops were cracked and empty just like the open and vacant fridge, as if the room's purpose had been abandoned. A kitchen was a place to nourish the body and come together as a family, just as the living room, a place of family togetherness, was forgotten and coated in dust.

A sudden twist of pain in Soul's chest drew his hand up to clutch at the fabric of his shirt. He faltered and fell to one knee, panting. If he didn't hurry up, then-no. He'd find her.

"Maka!" This time, rather than silence as his answer, Soul heard the sound of a small child weeping. He tried to get up, but it was as if there was some unseen burden on his back, keeping him down. Give up. The off-colored tiles were smooth and cool. Just rest. No one would blame him. No one would mind. Soul struggled, placing both hands on his knee and pushing upwards until he was finally upright.

"Why do you try so hard? Is it because you're dying too?" The voice was so small and innocent. There, in front of him stood a small girl, her salmon colored dress stained and torn. One pigtail had fallen out and her hair was matted. Her skin was pale under patches of dirt and around big emerald eyes were dark, sullen circles.

"Maka, is that you?" Soul asked, taking a lead-weighted step forward, trying with all his might not to fall over. The child simply took a step back.

"She's not going to let her soul be destroyed by some boy. She'll crush you long before she's gone."

"I need. To talk to her." He reached out and the little girl ran off, out of the kitchen. He pushed ahead and managed one foot forward. But the next foot simply wouldn't lift and with a thud, Soul collapsed to the tiles. No, he couldn't, wouldn't let it happen like this. If he didn't get to Maka and set things right then there might never be another chance to save her. No one could get this close to her but him. If this weight was being applied by her, he'd have to push back.

But why? If this kept up, he might end up dying. Why was that never an issue…?

"_You shout about how you'd die for me, the truth is that you know your life is a pointless failure. The only way you can make it worth anything is if you die protecting me!"_

In all his worry for her well being and guilt for his actions, Soul had forgotten what Maka had said to him during the fight. Every word had hurt because every word, every one of them, was completely true. Being a failure, outcast from his family for what he was, only being important to her because of his form, every breath was right. Soul's desire to get up was fading and he let his cheek touch the floor.

The tiles really _were_ smooth and cool…He was so tired, it was so hard to breathe, the air was so heavy here. If this was it, at least it was peaceful. Even though the setting was less than ideal, at least it was still within her. He technically wasn't dying alone and cold on the tile floor of some decrepit kitchen, but in the hallway they had lived their lives in, back home, just outside of her bedroom door.

Soul closed his eyes and tried to imagine how everyone would react to the news. Would Maka be sane enough to notice or care? Would it throw her deeper off the edge? Would his mother and father bother to come to his funeral? Would Wes play his dirge? Black Star would be devastated, but he was strong. He'd get over it eventually. If Tsubaki recovered in time, she'd cry but try to be strong for her idiot meister. Kid wouldn't likely care. He probably wouldn't even come or bring his girls with him. The teachers wouldn't even call a half day. In the end, so much struggling, effort, and suffering had amounted to so very little. Just a lump of a boy on the floor.

"Get up!" The voice had sounded distant and distorted, but distinctly that horrible imp all the same. Soul lifted his head with effort. "Are you going to fail at everything you do? At least go out accomplishing something! Pathetic!"

"I can't. Breathe. Can't m-move." Soul's ribs hardly expanded at this point.

"Fight back! Don't give up that body of yours so easy, get up! Don't you give a damn that once you give up, she'll be a target of Shibusen and hunted down? You might as well kill her yourself before you give it up like a sniveling coward!"

No, he couldn't let that happen. The others would be ruthless when they captured her and if Maka was past a point of saving, she'd be free for whatever experiments Stein or his colleagues may have in mind. Soul fought, forcing his lungs to expand. He pressed his hands against the calming tiles. They'd surround Maka and then attack with weapons. He struggled to lift his body upward. If they weren't forced to kill her, they'd bind Maka and take her to Shibusen and drag her down into the under belly forever. Soul lifted his torso from the tile floor, groaning in pain as his back curved upwards, his arms shaking from the weight.

This had to be more than finding purpose in his protection of her. If that was all, then simply trying would be enough and he really could just give up here. What then pushed him forward, to protect with his body and soul a girl who alternated kindness with pain? Why the hell did he care so much? Why did the thought of her hurt or in danger push him on, even now, straining to get up on his knees. Was it friendship? No, it was stronger than that. Loyalty? Even loyalty had its limits. What then? Insanity?

Perhaps it was insanity. It was clear that both of them were a little less than centered, mentally. After what felt like forever, Soul was finally back on his feet, panting with sweat rolling down the side of his face.

"Maka! Show yourself, let's settle this!" He called out into the house, stepping with heavy feet towards a long hallway. Where soiled family portraits had hung, were now old crumpled tests. Spelling tests, history tests, all of them with A's and across their wallpapering scrawled in red 'Not good enough.'

Slowly, Soul made his way down the hall, feeling the air grow colder with each step. The walls reading 'Try harder.' 'Do better.' 'Do better.' 'Be perfect.' 'Be special.' The hall took a sharp turn left and all that was there was one doorway and the remnants of two other rooms, but it seemed that they had been torn away, a gray emptiness swirling past the splintered wood and twisted pipes. He grabbed the handle of the remaining door and threw it open.

It was a rectangular room with the ceiling missing, looming gray clouds drizzling icy rain across the warped and stained gray wood floor. The walls to his right and left were gone. The wall across from him was a good fifteen feet ahead and still intact with a window, and sitting on an old trunk staring out of that window with her back to him was Maka. Her white class dress shirt was soaked, and clinging to her. Her skirt was torn on the ends and dark with black mud and water, and her hair hung tangled and stuck to her shoulders. In her arms, she rocked the child version of herself.

The little girl's head fell backwards and shifted limply as Maka rocked her. Her tiny arm hung motionless. "You don't belong here." The older's voice was soft and so very exhausted. "Leave."

"I'm here to help you." Soul stepped forward, but the boards underfoot creaked and groaned loudly, threatening to break. The rain was cold and it made him bring his shoulders up as it hit and ran down his neck and back.

Slowly, Maka stood but kept her back to him, still rocking the silent girl softly. "Why do you think it's always like this? A man and a woman fighting with words, hands, wavelengths, until one is swallowed? Is this the kind of life I'm supposed to live? Is it illogical to want to cut off all interaction? Does it make me a bad person?" She tilted her head "Does it make me less of a woman? Does it make me even less human? Human." She scoffed. "I was never human."

"Just because you're not human exactly, doesn't mean you're not a person. Not wanting to fight with people you care about is natural, right? No one wants to do that."

Maka turned, looking at him over her shoulder. "What are you doing here, Soul? You've seen how weak I am, aren't you happy enough? Do you know the effort I've placed in keeping you from getting too close?" He swallowed at the sight of her face, so pale, her eyes so sunken and blank. There was no joy in anything, just tired resentment, cold numbness amplified by the rain that slid down her cheeks and dripped from her chin.

"Don't you trust me?" He swallowed and stepped ahead despite the shifting of the wood under him. "Haven't I done enough to show you that you can count on me to protect you?" Soul couldn't help but shiver, feeling the coldness of the rain beginning to numb his skin, making his hair fall over his eyes. It seemed with each passing moment the air grew a little colder. They were running out of time.

"You still don't understand, do you?" Maka gently put the small girl on the trunk and then turned back to the wall and gave it the smallest of pushes, sending it off into the nothingness. Across a chiasm of swirling gray mist laid the silhouette of their apartment with a light from the window glowing warm and yellow in the distance.

"Places like that don't exist," Maka pointed at the warm beacon. "Believing in that kind of happiness and love is true insanity. This is the true reality to everything. Love isn't real, so stop trying to fool me. Just go away!" Each sentence was said with a little more hate, a little more anger. "I don't need you, I don't need any one. I can do everything on my own. Stop treating me so nicely. You're just pretending. You don't really care so stop trying so hard."

Still, Soul continued to step forward cautiously, watching his feet and praying not to fall through. "You could die here, don't you care?" Maka continued to shout. "Why would you die for someone like me? Maybe you're the crazy one. It's not because you love me. Love isn't real. So you're pretending. You don't even think I'm pretty, you say so all the time. Even if you weren't I wouldn't let you. This is what's real. Loneliness and silence, that's real. Love isn't. This is what I want, so just go away!"

Soul had stopped moving forward, his breath rolling from his lips in small clouds as he shivered in the rain. Love. It was like a key, a forgotten word, an incomprehensible outcome, but it sent him stepping forward with his eyes locked on her. The floor cracked and his foot fell through tearing his jeans, gouging his skin, but still he pulled forward. The other foot fell through and soon each step was followed by a crack, a scrape, a new wound, leaving his own trail of blood that diluted and ran in the rain.

"What are you doing? Stay back, are you stupid?" Maka shifted uneasily as he closed in on her. She had to stop him. She couldn't let him near her core. Maka hurried over to the edge of the floor and grabbed a long thin splintered stake of wood. She turned and secured a wide stance, both hands holding the end tightly.

Soul approached without stopping. He only paused when a snow flake fell on his nose. The rain had changed to snow, quickly gathering on the floor. Any contact from the soft flakes stung his already frozen and soaked body. His own vision was beginning to blur and tiredness was numbing his mind like the cold had numbed his body. So he pressed onward.

"I won't let you trick me!" Maka was shaking from fear, even though her bare feet were now coated in a layer of ice and snow. "You'll just lie like you always lie! You'll pretend like you care and then you'll just hurt me!"

Soul took one last step and took a deep breath, now in front of her. He had done it. He had reached her at last. Slowly, Soul reached out, and finally touched her shoulder, a warm grin on his blue lips. "It's ok-"

Before he could finish, Maka had thrust the spike into his stomach, sinking the first three of the good twelve or so inches into his flesh. Soul's knees threatened to give out and his weight shifted slightly against her shoulder that he had managed to hold. The blood that began to spill was so hot compared to the frozen wetness, melting the snow between them as it stained it crimson

"I t-told you to stay back! No one cares about someone more than themselves! That d-doesn't exist! So just stop now!" Maka's eyes watered as she twisted it a bit. "I told you to leave me alone but you never listen to me!"

"It does exist." Soul's voice cracked and before Maka could say anything in protest, Soul stepped forward against the stake. He was still pushing closer to her, despite the pain, despite everything! It froze her in fear, in shock. All she could do was stand there, holding it, shaking.

"I'm not leaving without you." He continued despite the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth. Maka's eyes narrowed and she tried to pull from his touch but couldn't.

"You're the c-crazy one!" She couldn't keep her jaw from chattering. "I've seen it for myself! I w-won't suffer like she did, I won't trust and be hurt like she was!" Still, he pressed forward, only five inches left between them. In all honesty, Soul couldn't feel the pain so it wasn't that heroic. All he could see was the ice forming in her hair, how her bottom lip couldn't stop shaking.

Soul reached out and with a shaking hand he touched her frozen cheek. "I-It's ok to be s-scared, it's ok to mess up, it's even ok to fall s-sometimes. I'll always be here to help you."

Maka put both hands on the stake and twisted it again. "Stop it! Stop it! You're lying, you don't want me, you said so, you betrayed me and humiliated me! I don't want you to get any closer, so stop! Stop-" her eyes widened when she felt the hot blood soaked fabric of his shirt against her hands. He had done it. He had taken the entire thing to close the space between.

"See..? It…it does exist. I want you…please come home." Soul's knees buckled and his hands tried to grab her clothing for support but failed, falling to his knees and then to his side in the snow.

Love…to care about someone more than yourself. To take a blow, to face a curse, to endure whatever pain was there to close the gap…It did exist and it flowed hot and red over the pure white. Maka fell to her knees and pulled him into her lap, tears rolling down her cheeks. Everything was slowing, fading in the corners as tiredness and sorrow spread through her.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?" Maka asked, pushing his hair from his eyes. "I-I don't want to need anyone as bad as this." She rested her forehead on his shoulder and shivered when she felt his lips brush her ear as he whispered.

"Maka. You…don't have to give up l-logic. You…you don't have to get s-stronger on your own. You can be imperfect and I'll…still want… I'll still l..lo.." Her heart stopped as she waited for him to finish. But he never did. It was just the sound of her shivering breath and the sound of the snow.

"Soul?" Maka lifted her head to see his eyes still slightly open, staring unfocused at the sky, at nothing, just as red as the blood on his chin, the blood in the snow around them. In the distance there was a groan and she turned to see the light of their apartment flicker and fade out.

"No! No I don't want this!" She had the solitude now, the cold freezing reality of loneliness. "Soul wake up!" She shook him. "Let's go, you said I could go home, let's go home!" Still, there was nothing. The snow stopped, the floor's holes closed, the walls returned. The collision of their souls was over. She had won. Between them, she always…always won.

"Please, wake up. Please." Maka begged. "I'll give anything…" The opposite of the desire to grow. Insanity was the desire to devour for the sake of the self. Love was the desire to give for the sake of someone else. Turns out they weren't the same after all.

"She's coming to." Nygus sighed in relief. She had left Black Star's apartment and met Stein at the school's infirmary hours before. Maka opened her eyes slowly as Nygus removed the breathing mask from Maka's face.

"Welcome back." Stein grinned down at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Where is Soul, what's going on?" Maka's head pounded and her chest was sore, as if she had been laying on it for hours.

"You had a bit of a breakdown," the doctor explained. "But your wavelength seems to be stable now. It was pretty lucky I went out to stargaze or I might not have caught the insane pulses you were giving off." Maka struggled to sit up but he gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about Soul, he's fine, so just take it easy for now."

Reluctantly, Maka rested against the mattress. "If he's fine, why isn't he here?" The other beds were empty.

"Your breathing would begin to slow when you two were in the same room." Nygus answered this time. "We had to separate you. He's just in the next room. Sid's keeping watch." Maka closed her eyes, and even though it pained her chest, she used soul perception to find that she was telling the truth. There he was, his soul glowing warm and bright like a beacon in the darkness.

"I think that's all we'll need for now, Nygus. Thanks for your help." Stein waved and the knife weapon stood and left. Those poor kids had it rough. It wasn't something she thought of often, but it did seem a little criminal to start them so young. Children shouldn't have to endure things like this.

Stein pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards at Maka's bedside. "Is there anything you need to talk about?"

"I…no. I think we sorted things out." Maka nodded tiredly. "Thanks."

"It's my job." He tightened the bolt on his head. "I'll keep your father away for tonight, but I can't make any promises for tomorrow."

Maka's mouth went dry at the mentioning of him. "That's ok. There's a few things I have to ask him anyway." Stein went to get up but paused when Maka continued. "If I didn't have soul perception, would you think I'm less useful?"

"Of course not. It's a plus, but it's not why you're the top of the class. You're the head because of how much you care about what you're doing. A lot of the other kids are here because their parents made them, or just for something to do, or to show off. You're one of the few I've seen that works to make a difference. Now, get some sleep." He stood and walked to the door and gave a friendly wave before turning off the light and closing the door.

Love… to give yourself for the sake of someone else. In a way, that's what they were, what the school was about. They gave so much for the sake of those who couldn't protect their selves. Gave their self to make a difference. For the beloved helpless…like how Soul gave himself again and again for her. Maka felt a strange mix of shame and warmth inside of her. Shame for the way her motives for being there had changed from love to self-justification, how she had never noticed Soul's sacrifices for what they truly were, how she had questioned him at all. And warmth at the knowledge that she was special and truly wanted.

The next morning, Maka would wake to her father looming over her. "Good morning, Maka!" There were bouquets of flowers, a teddy bear by her bed and balloons tied to the post.

"What's all this? I didn't get my appendix removed or anything." She sat up only to be hugged.

"I was worried! Stein wouldn't let me check up on you last night. I guess I got a little carried away, but nothing's too much for my little Maka."

"I'm not your little Maka anymore." Spirit wasn't surprised by her words or when she pulled from his arms. He was surprised, however, by her next question. "Did you ever love momma, even just a little?"

"Of course I did." Gently, he reached over and moved some of her hair behind her ear. "I loved her more than I could find words to tell you with."

"Then why? Why did you guys fight, why did you sleep around if you loved her so much? And don't give me that 'it's complicated' line. I'm well aware it's complicated."

Spirit sat in the chair by her bedside and tried to find the right words. "It started out as little things. We'd argue about who was supposed to do the dishes, who was supposed to buy the groceries. Somehow we let it grow into something else entirely, but there was so much…We were still in enforcement, still doing missions, and we were trying to be the best parents we could be, but after work and taking care of our baby girl and doing everyday things, there wasn't room for us. We said a lot of things we didn't mean. Took out frustration on each other instead of talking about what was bothering us. In the end, we hurt each other pretty bad because we were so close. If I could forget for a little while all the things she said about me and all my troubles it was hard to say no."

He scooted closer to Maka and took her hand. "What I did, there's no excuse for. I'm not saying it was right and if I could take it back, I would." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I lost so much because I wanted to push away from my troubles. I lost my wife, who I loved more than anything and I lost the love and respect of my precious daughter."

Maka just stared at him. If it had been any other day, she wouldn't have been able to understand how someone could love someone and hurt someone at the same time. She would have taken his words as half hearted excuses and called him a liar… But it was clear now. She and Soul had fallen into the same thing. The stresses of the world, of the past, of everything had put pressure on her to the point that she'd let it bubble up and took it out on her partner. Instead of discussing her troubles, she kept them to herself and pushed him away, said things she didn't mean, and would have given up her sanity just to get away from the pain. Maka wrapped her arms around Spirit.

"It's ok, Papa."

He lifted shaking arms and wrapped them around her, unable to keep his eyes from watering.

"I forgive you."

Somewhere inside of Maka, she moved a rag over the dust-clouded glass of a picture frame. There was the smiling face of her mother, the proud grin of her father and the joyful gap toothed grin of herself. There had been a time when they were happy and things were perfect. That was enough to prove it had been, she was proof it had been, and that love could still exist. Carefully, she replaced the picture on the wall and went about dusting the shelves. It was then that she noticed the footprints on the floor, the impressions Soul had made in her own. More than anything she wanted to learn more about love and return this place to how it had once been.

It had to start in forgiveness.

For the first time in years, longer than Maka could clearly recall, she had an honest conversation with her father. She truly listened, truly did her best to understand rather than let her pain and resentment block his words. Spirit was a good man who had made some bad choices and still had some things to improve on. She didn't tell him about what had happened within her soulscape, she wasn't ready for quite that much honesty, but she did apologize for putting him through years of punishment and emotional isolation. At the end, she felt proud of herself, but more than that, she felt _adult. _Maka had spoken like an adult and listened like an adult and came to better understand adult things. The weight of years of anger, bitterness and resentment had begun to leave her, and she swore she felt pounds lighter.

Maka politely excused herself from her father and went to go check on Soul. The lazy ass was still asleep and she shook her head as she approached his bed side.

"You have to be the dumbest, bravest, stupidest…coolest person on earth." Maka whispered as she pushed some of his bangs from his face. She had never stopped to look at him clearly. His thick, wild white hair was so unique and she liked how it contrasted with his skin that was just a little tanner than her own shade. She could see where the roundness of his face was beginning to fade to a more mature jaw line. The sudden image of the stake from before crossed Maka's mind and she slowly peeled the bed sheet down until she could pinch his shirt and lift it up to peek underneath—to make sure that he wasn't really hurt, of course.

"If you wanted to see, you could have just asked." Soul said with a chuckle. His voice made her jump.

"I was just checking to see if you were ok!" Maka threw her hands behind her back, her cheeks bright red.

"I'm fine. You feelin' ok?" Soul asked, scratching his head.

"Y-yeah I'm fine."

"Good." He sat up and took her hand, increasing her blush. "Don't scare me like that again." Before she could reply, he pulled her into a hug.

She hugged back, but couldn't help but sniffle, burying her face into his shoulder. "That's m-my line, isn't it?"

He pulled back just enough to rub away the tears that were forming on her cheeks. "You can't get rid of me that easy."

There was a new gravitation between them, his face, his lips were so close…Maka closed her eyes and tilted forward only to feel Soul's hand touch her forehead.

"Are you sure you're feeling ok? Your face is pale but your cheeks are red."

"Ah!" Maka stood straight, entirely embarrassed. "I'm fine!" What in the world had come over her? Maka began to try to come up with a good explanation for what had happened if he pushed the subject later.

"Good, because it's your turn to cook tonight." Soul hopped off the bed and took her hand, smiling his sharp toothed smile. "Let's go home."

Maka nodded and gave a soft squeeze. "Together."

* * *

A/N Part 2: I want to thank Hitoshi-chan for her amazing beta-ing! She helped me find parts that were weak and worked with me to help improve them. I couldn't have done it without you!


	7. Teardrop

A/N: **For this chapter, I suggest Teardrop by Massive Attack**. This chapter picks up after the events of the third chapter "Right in Two."

* * *

**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter Seven**

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. No, that was certainly not in his nature. It was hardly Kid's fault that his physiology allowed him such sensitive hearing.

"It's not stupid, Sis. It's how you feel. You should just tell Kid or it'll just grow inside you until it bursts. Like a piñata with too many sweets inside!"

Kid stood there in the mansion hallway, silver serving tray in his hands with two delicate tea cups filled with amber liquid and paired perfectly with sugar cubes and milk. Ever so carefully, as to not let the tray make a noise, he pressed his back against the cool blue-gray wall and just listened.

"Love doesn't work that way, Patty."

It was the night before they'd leave for their dangerous mission to Russia and neither girl could sleep, so Liz had come to Patty's room to try and relax. Of course, the subject of the unspoken had come up. Liz squeezed the pillow in her arms while she sat indian style on her sister's bed. Patty laid on her belly with her legs bent at the knees and kicked softly.

"Well it's not working your way either. Besides being a scardy cat, why not say anything?"

Liz swallowed, trying to word her fuzzy logic in a way that Patty would understand. "You know how when we lived in that park for a while and you played on the see saw? Well the three of us are kinda like a see saw, me and you on the ends and Kid in the center." Patty seemed to be imagining it and gave an enthusiastic nod.

"Well you can't touch the middle from where you sit on the ends, right?" She continued. "I'd have to get up and move further down my side of the see saw, then the see saw doesn't work. It tosses everything outta balance. If things get outta balance and we can't be good guns for Kid, then we won't have a place here. I'd rather just sit on my end and be glad to be on the blasted thing at all."

"But the see saw at the park had really long planks on either side to sit on." Patty smiled. "Our see saw is much much shorter because we're closer to the center than anyone else." Liz bit her lip at that. Where the hell did Patty get sayings like that anyway? It was so corny but so… Not that it changed anything, no, Liz was sure this was still the best thing.

"What other dumb excuses you got? I've got all night." Patty giggled and Liz snorted.

"I don't know why I talk to you about this stuff. Shouldn't it be the other way around since I'm older?"

"Because you're the one with the crush and our friends are just as clueless as you are. There's more to it, c'mon, tell Patty all about it."

Kid swallowed. He should leave. The tea in hand was something he had prepared knowing that the girls were still feeling anxious about the upcoming mission and was meant to ease them, but his presence now would only upset Liz. No, it was best that he just-

"I dunno, I guess he's just way outta my league. Don't get me wrong, I'm gorgeous. But Kid is...he's not like us, Patty."

He looked at his reflection in the tea cups, frowning at the metallic shine of his eyes, the image of his hideous asymmetrical Sanzu lines in his hair. They were reminders of just how different he was than anyone he cared for.

"Besides, if he did pick someone, he would pick someone a little more smart, more..." Liz searched for the right words. Kid needed…he _deserved _someone not raised on the streets, someone pure who had never smoked or been arrested, someone who had never gotten high or drank herself into a coma. The right girl for him would be an angel of poise, with perfect skin, who woke up shimmering and floated when she walked. Someone who would be able to keep her temper and appear at all of the fancy parties and diplomatic meetings he'd have to attend when he grew more into his future role. A pretty girlfriend, a pretty wife who would be able to dance the dances and take the bullshit of the elite and understand all the politics. A girl that was more 'Shibusen' and a little less 'Manhattan alley.'

"Someone more qualified." Liz finally continued. She stared ahead with a bitter sweet expression and even though something like a sad smile slid onto her lips, her words were dull and hollow. "There's this nice guy at the club we snuck into last weekend that gave me his number. I think after this mission I'll give him a call." Patty nodded and got up. She didn't buy it for a second, but she needed a break from her sister's melodrama.

"I'll be back, gunna go get something to drink."

Liz watched her open the door and pause, looking down. "It must be my lucky day!" Patty stooped low to pick up the tea tray placed by their door. "The tea fairy left us a present."

The perfect placement of all the parts on the tray made a lump form in the back of Liz's throat. Her sister brought the tray over and passed her one of the tea cups but Liz closed her eyes, trying to steady her hands. He had heard. He must have heard. Why else would he have just left the tray and not come in?

"How many sugars?" Patty asked, stuffing two of the cubes into her mouth.

"I-" She wasn't thirsty, she could hardly think. But the warmth radiating from the thin, fragile tea cup in her hands caused her thoughts to slow. He had made it for her, the cup warm like the good intentions behind its making.

"Two please."

Kid entered his bedroom, a haven of order in a world of chaos, but even the symmetry and balance of the furniture and accessories couldn't bring him peace. He sat hesitantly at the foot of his bed and looked at his interlocked fingers. The quiet stillness in the room echoed the isolation he knew so well. The isolation he had been born into. _'He's not like us...' _

"Disconnect cleanly…" The words slipped from Kid's lips into the silent room. It had been a mantra that was drilled into him from childhood, dozens of years ago.

It was different back then. The mansion was a cold and distant place filled with tutors, instructors, servants and devoid of friends. The young prince was kept isolated for the sake of his studies that would go on for days straight because he didn't tire like mortals. Language lessons bled into history, bled into soul theory, bled into combat training, bled into cultural studies, bled into dance, into music, into forever.

"Young Master, please pay attention." His elderly soul theory teacher tapped on the white table in the mansion's private library. The young Shinigami, with the physical appearance of a six year old, stared vacantly out the window at other children who were playing in the streets below. He wore a frilly white dress shirt and little black shorts with black suspenders, his hair still much the same as it would be when he was older, just with two inches of white on the back of his head.

"I want to go outside." The child didn't even look at the teacher.

"You know that's not possible." He took a deep breath. "You are to stay here until you finish your lesson on resonance and then you're to report to the music room to-"

Kid turned with a clear frown on his round little face. "I want to go outside."

"If you go outside and make friends-"

"I am well aware of the possible consequences." The young Shinigami slammed his hands down on the table. His voice was cold and it sent a shiver up the man's spine. "I do not intend to make friends with anyone, I just simply cannot stand to be here with you or these books another moment." Kid stood and walked to the door.

Mortals were like dandelions, that awful teacher would often explain. They're golden for a few days, then grow white and fade away soon after. Then the man would have the nerve to throw his mother into his argument. 'If you make emotional connections to mortals, you'll have to grieve hundreds, maybe thousands of times during your life span.' Losing his mortal mother had been devastating, Kid didn't need another mortal to warn him of the dangers of getting too close to those who'd die long before him.

His mother…he wondered what she'd have to say about how things were now. She was a graceful, gentle, love filled woman who adored nature, beauty and the arts. Back then, behind Death Mansion was a rose garden, filled with roses of all the natural colors. There were trees then, in the corners of the property and under them, sat a woman of love.

She was an image of beauty, with long flowing black hair that tumbled down her shoulders and into the grass. On her curvy frame she wore a black dress that both flattered her and remained demure. Her skin was pale and flawless and on her slender, graceful hands were two Shinigami skull rings which he wore still to this day. Kid could recall often sitting in her lap when his actual age was ten but remained an adorable three year old in appearance. Her loving arms were wrapped around him, holding an art book in view as she rested the side of her cheek against his head.

"Can you tell me who painted this one?" Her voice was smooth, in his recollection. The child thought for a moment before touching the page and looking up at his mother, with his father's eyes.

"This one is too easy." He giggled. "You painted this in my room. It's Circle Limit Three by M. C. Escher."

"Very good. And what is special about this picture? What art aspect does it represent?"

"Symmetry! Oh and value of primary colors."

"Very very good." She kissed his head and closed the book before shifting him from her lap in order to stand. Her son lifted his arms over his head and she dipped low to pick him up. Kid buried his face into her hair which always smelled sweet. He always felt safe there, in her arms. Carefully, she carried him into the rose garden and handed him a basket.

"Hold this for mommy while I cut some roses, ok?"

"Ok!" He held it tight. With one arm, she held her precious son while the other cut and placed rose after rose into the basket.

"Does it hurt the flowers when you cut them?"

"No. Flowers are happy to bloom to be enjoyed by the people who love them." She smiled.

"But they'll just wilt and die, why bother?"

The woman gently put her son down and kneeled in the dirt to look him in his eyes, holding a peach colored rose in his view. "One day, when you're older, you'll ask yourself that same question and I want you to remember what I say, even if it's years and years later, ok?" she waited for him to nod and she sat, pulling him into her lap.

"Isn't this rose beautiful?" She asked, handing it to him. After a moment of thought, Kid nodded. "Does it make you happy?" He tilted his head before nodding. "Then you should enjoy it to the fullest while it is alive. You could leave it in the garden and visit it now and then, but you can't truly appreciate it until you bring it with you. Yes, it will wilt and die, but you will have a stronger memory of that rose if you allow it inside your heart." She placed a loving hand over his tiny chest.

"As long as you remember it, it still lives. All these roses in this basket are coming with us into our home and while they're alive we will love them. When you're grown up, people will say it's better not to bother with flowers, but don't believe them, no matter what. Life is cold and empty without roses."

The boy was perplexed. Were roses really that important? Weren't they just flowers? But he didn't want his mother to think he wasn't listening so he looked over his shoulder.

"Ok, Mama, I'll remember."

They cut a number of roses and once inside, Kid climbed up onto a chair, standing in the seat to be able to watch as his mother arranged the perfect flowers into a crystal vase.

"See how the colors balance one another?" Red roses were on the outside, then pink ones, then two peach ones and then she handed him the single white rose. "Place that one between the two peach roses."

The boy concentrated before sliding the flower in just right and earned a small round of applause from his mother.

"There. Now it's perfect."

"Symmetry." He pointed and she kissed his head.

"You're right. All parts are balanced and are in perfect harmony. This one…" she pointed at the white rose. "This one is you. You're the center of my universe and all things fall into balance around you."

He reached out and touched the soft petals of the peach rose to the right of the white rose. "Then who are these ones?"

"Whoever is closest to you." She hugged him.

"You and father!" He smiled up at her.

But soon after that, she grew sick and died and the balance was lost. His father tore up the rose garden and paved it over so that Kid could be trained in combat. Instead of laughter, there was the isolation of studying and expectation and it stayed that way for decades until on the night of her birthday, he had decided to leave the mansion and travel to the east coast to get away from the prison of his home.

With a slow sigh, Kid got up and went to prepare for his shower before bed. There was no use in wasting time contemplating things he could not change. Such pointless undisciplined thoughts, he scolded himself. There was Russian that he had to review, strategies to go over. Everyone was counting on him and Liz and Patty's safety was in his hands. Kid stood and began to get ready for his shower, focusing on things he still had the power to influence.

* * *

Liz stared at herself in the mirror that next morning. She had slept for less than an hour and it seemed no matter how much foundation and concealer she put under her eyes, the rings still showed through. The very least she could do was make sure they were equally dark. Once that was done, she checked again that her hair part was down the center, that the pieces she liked to let frame her face were equal thicknesses on both sides.

Kid had had his servants issue her a black ribbed turtle neck that thankfully covered her arms and stomach since they were traveling to a significantly colder climate. The white pants issued were form fitting, but she didn't mind. Over all, this was a good look. She added the small white tie to the shirt and the given long white winter coat and gave a pleased nod. If it came down to it, this was a good outfit to die in.

It was an idea she considered without being completely serious. If this was the last thing she'd wear at least she'd look good. Liz smoothed the fabric of the pure white winter coat thinking about how hard it would be to get all of the blood out without letting it stain.

A knock at her door made her jump. "Liz," Kid's voice called through. "If you are ready, please come downstairs for breakfast."

"I'll be down." She called back, her hand firmly placed over her chest. The sound of early morning birds caught her attention and Liz sighed. It should be criminal to leave before the sun was up, 13 hour flight or not.

"Who are the roses for?" Patty asked, hyper on anticipation and maple syrup. In the middle of the table was a small arrangement of black and white roses.

"No one." Kid replied as he worked on cutting his pancakes into perfect pieces. It wasn't a lie, they certainly weren't a gift for anyone. Today was his mother's birthday and also the anniversary of his discovery of Liz and Patty, but he didn't want them to pry into his past, or appear silly and sentimental.

Liz stumbled into the room, yawning and stretching before sitting next to Patty. For a few blissful moments she was too sleepy to recall last night, but as soon as it hit her, Liz tensed and glued her eyes to her food. He knew. Heknewheknewheknew she might as well have said it to his face and-wait. Were those roses in the middle of the table? She looked up and stared at the perfect round arrangement of white and black roses. Strange, there were almost never any kind of real flowers in the mansion. What if he was feeling romantic? What if they were for her? Oh god.

"Who are the roses for?" Liz asked, reaching out to take one from the vase, only for Kid to jump up and grab her hand. She winced at how hard he was squeezing.

"They're for no one. You'll ruin it." She met his eyes to find them narrowed at her.

"Fine. Sorry, jeeze." She shook her hand free and got up. "I'm not hungry anyway."

Patty watched her sister get up before frowning at Kid. "That was really mean." She grabbed her plate and Liz's plate and walked away from the table, leaving Kid alone with the flower filled vase.

Mortals were dandelions. Girls were foolish and rash. The vase, like the city, was filled with things that were dying. There was nothing that could be done about it, so why feel any sort of way? So, with a deep breath, Death the Kid took in the quiet and disconnected himself cleanly from the emotions around him.

This was all on the same day that Maka and Black Star's teams would attempt to capture Pavel Titov. Long before the four would wake, Kid and his guns left the city for the airport to face their own trials.

On the small private plane, the three of them sat side by side with Liz to his right, and Patty to his left as always. It had only been moments after take off when Liz drifted off, her head resting against the wall of the plane.

"She didn't get much sleep." Patty said, leaning forward. "I thought she woulda stayed up a little longer with all the coffee she drank though." she waited for him to say something to shrug off the subject, but when Kid just sat there, looking at Liz while she slept, Patty sighed and rested her cheek in her hand. "You heard us talkin' last night, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Kid quickly turned his attention forward, looking at nothing in particular.

"Fibber. Do you like her too?"

"No." He had said it so plainly and without hesitation, but his distant expression didn't change. "If I did have feelings for Liz, it wouldn't matter."

"Because you're a god and she's not? Oh like vampires in those romance books who fall in love with people!" Patty tapped her chin before striking a dramatic pose, much like Romeo calling to Juliet. "Oh darling, our love can never be for I shall live a million years and your life is like fleeting twilight!"

Kid scoffed at that, frowning. "Don't compare this to shallow, trashy romance novels."

"At least in those trashy romance novels, the main character learns to appreciate the lives of mortals, even if they are short. You enjoyed those roses at breakfast enough to stop Sis from touching them. They still make you happy, even if you know they're going to wilt and die, right? Aren't we kinda like that?"

He turned and just stared at Patty. Just. Stared with wide golden eyes. The image of his mother, holding that glorious peach colored rose out to him came back to mind.

"Wh-who told you that?" Kid asked, leaning closer to her. Patty blinked and leaned a little away.

"I just made it up. Why?"

He sighed and rested back in his seat, closing his eyes. "Nothing. Never mind. All of this talk about roses and feelings is distracting. We all should rest while we can."

There was silence for only a moment before Patty began talking again. She was never one for quiet.

"You know, life was really tough for me and Sis before we met you. We got by on muggings and selling hot cars." Patty brought her knees up to her chest as her tone turned into a foreign seriousness.

"She doesn't think I know, but she did other things to make sure that I could eat, or we had a place to sleep when it was cold. Bad, bad things. Men that would let us sleep in their garages or sheds would ask her to do things in return. And she would. For me." There was a brief moment of sadness in her voice and face, but it was quickly pushed aside with a happy smile. "But then you came and didn't ask for anything special and gave us everything."

Even if Kid still had his head back and his eyes closed, she could tell he was listening. "She'd never admit it, but you're her messed up prince charming. Even if you don't _like her_ like her, say somethin'. It's the least you could do for as much as we put up with all your belly achin'." She stuck her tongue out playfully before resting her head against her own wall.

Kid peeked open an eye when Patty was quiet for a few moments. Slowly, as to remain as quiet as possible, he sat upright and turned his gaze to Liz. Kid couldn't fathom the sort of things Patty had mentioned, the sorts of 'bad, bad things' that Liz had done for shelter and food for her sister. A young woman as physically attractive as her, it wouldn't be hard to guess. Having the will and the strength to do something like that and make that sort of choice…enduring the responsibility of caring for someone in such a hostile environment. Or perhaps the unmentioned home environment they had lost or escaped from in the first place… He simply couldn't comprehend.

And rather than seeing any sort of filth in her for such choices, Kid only saw strength. Even though the elder gun was often the more timid one, when it came down to it she was infinitely brave, doing what it took to protect the ones she loved. Just like now. He knew this mission frightened Liz greatly, but she'd never leave Patty or himself in danger.

But how did he feel for her? Liz was immeasurably important to him, not just as part of a set, a baby sitter, or counterweight for balance, but as a person and perhaps one of his very first friends. She did countless things for him, put up with his tantrums, followed him even if she was scared.

But in all honesty, Kid wasn't sure what love was supposed to look like, or what it meant to be in love. It was never part of his curriculum, and certainly never seen in his own life. All his memories of his mother and father together were in social settings where they acted professionally. The very last thing that he'd want was to hurt her. To say that he felt the same and end up mistaken would be the worst possible outcome. So, once the mission was over, or when they had a quiet moment in private, Kid would explain. He couldn't return feelings he didn't know how to feel.

It was a few hours later when Liz woke, feeling strangely warm and comfortable. When the warmth she was feeling shifted, she looked to her left to find Kid sleeping against her. His cheek was pressed against her arm, his lips slightly parted. He was so…pretty, so fragile but strong, constant yet unstable, and it pained her so much to have him so close.

Softly, she rested her head against his and swallowed the stupid lump in her throat. Her eyes glanced at his hand resting on his knee and carefully she touched the metal ring on his middle finger before feeling brave enough to touch his skin.

Why couldn't she shake these morbid thoughts? Everything within her screamed that they were headed into certain death, and not the normal worry, but real gut twisting cries from her core to make the most of these moments. Liz placed her hand over Kid's, managing to entwine her fingers with his and not wake him. If something did go wrong, she was sure that Kid would still take care of Patty for her. The set would be ruined, but he certainly wouldn't throw Patty out into the street.

That was reassurance enough. Patty would be safe, now even without her. And if Liz never knew what it was like to be in a real relationship, to be truly loved by another, that was ok. At least she finally got to know what it was like to have a home, a place, a purpose here with him.

* * *

Liz had hoped so much for snow once they landed, but she was only greeted with rain. The airport runway was cold and busy as she shifted the black umbrella in hand. Patty was stretching and Kid was a short distance away speaking in Russian to an airport official. Maybe it was the jet lag, but it seemed as if everything was slowing down. The trees in the distance swayed and waved in the dark sky slowly. The sound of a black cargo truck pulling up snapped Liz out of it as it pulled up to them and two men opened the back doors.

"No limo?" Liz asked, as Kid walked over just to break the anxious quiet.

"This is a covert mission, Liz." Kid said as he climbed into the back and offered his hand to help her up. "It's imperative that no one knows we're here."

Liz looked at his hand and closed her eyes before taking it. This nightmare mission was truly beginning now. She felt him pull and she gave a push upwards until she was steadied by his hands.

"Everything will go according to plan." His soft reassuring words washed over Liz. "We'll be home before you know it. I've already made the appointment for the spa day I promised."

She opened her eyes at that and found herself face to face with deep pools of gold. Even if the mission was to the center of the sun, she'd believe him when he spoke so kindly to her. Two hands planted themselves on Liz's back and pushed and before she could stop herself, she ended up toppling over on top of Kid onto the floor of the truck, her lips pressed against his.

Everything stopped. The tapping of rain on the top of the truck, the nagging premonitions of doom, her breathing, her heart, time, all of it ended. It was likely that Patty had been the one who shoved her, and it might have been an accident, but she took advantage of the situation. He already knew about everything, so Liz gathered her courage and pressed into the kiss.

But of course, he showed no signs of returning it.

Reluctantly, Liz lifted up just enough to whisper a quiet "Sorry."

"I'm the one that's sorry." Kid whispered back, returning balance back to her face by pushing some hair behind her ear. "Are you alright?"

Liz quickly got up and offered him a hand and a forced grin. "Yeah, I'm fine. You're the one that got squished, not me." In that exchange, he had made it clear. He didn't feel the same, but he still cared. Oh well, it was a dumb dream to hope for anyway. She was just being greedy, like back on the streets. She had a good place. It was best to be grateful for what she had while she had it. Kid took her hand and stood just as the doors to the back of the truck shut.

"Sorry for pushin'." Patty grinned at her sister as Liz sat next to her on the bench provided. "Your big butt was in the way."

"You did it on purpose." Liz huffed before patting Patty's knee in silent thanks. A quick poke to Liz's arm was her sister saying 'you're welcome.'

Kid sat across from the girls. His lips still tingled, his heart still beating erratically. He could still taste the strawberry lip gloss she had on. No, there was the mission to focus on, but his thoughts swirled. It had felt good. Was it supposed to? If it happened again, he wouldn't mind. But that wasn't love, was it? Wasn't it supposed to be a higher sort of meaning than just how his body interpreted one chance happening? But she'd never tell him no. He could ask and she would, he knew that. But that would be wrong, wouldn't it? He'd be just as low as the men they had encountered before who'd made her exchange favors for things. But it was _so _nice…Ugh! This was infuriating. He leaned forward and clutched his head.

"Hey Kid, think of butterflies." Patty said from the other side of the truck.

"Think of the number eight." Liz added, smiling reassuringly.

"Think of pretty pink hearts!"

"Think of circles and diamonds."

He tried to block out their voices. This wasn't about symmetry. _She was so symmetrical, after all, from her hair to her lips, to the apex of female symmetry where matching legs met curvy symmetrical hips…_

Liz hopped over to his bench and touched his shoulder. "Hey, did you hit your head when you fell?" She put a gentle hand in his hair to look for any signs of wetness, only for Kid to quickly pull away from her.

"Don't touch me." He snapped and Liz retracted her hand quickly, looking just as hurt as if he had slapped her. "I'm. I'm fine. Don't worry."

Liz frowned but got up. "If you're sure." She took her spot next to Patty and sighed.

It was quiet after that except for Patty's humming. Kid eventually regained his composure, sitting up and looking over at Liz who was busy staring at the truck's back doors with a bored expression. He'd have to apologize properly once they stopped.

The road grew bumpy, which was the first warning sign, for Kid knew that they should be traveling on a route that only consisted of paved roads. No sooner had he decided to stand did the truck come to a jerking stop.

"Liz, Patty." Kid walked to the center of the truck. "Transform."

"I knew this wasn't going to go smoothly." Liz sighed before transforming. Patty followed her lead and Kid shifted his grip on them, steadying his aim at the back of the truck. Outside there were a few cries of pain and the truck began to move again.

"What's going on?" Liz asked. He could feel tension and fear build up and reverberate on her wavelength. He could lie, but it was best to stick to the truth in situations like this.

"We've been hijacked." Kid said as he backed up to the head of the truck before rushing full force towards the backdoors. Even with all of his force, the chained shut doors wouldn't budge. On the fourth attempt there was a loud crack, not the door, but his left shoulder. In the pain, he dropped Patty who transformed back.

"Patty, I need you to help me reset my shoulder." He sighed.

"Ookay!" A huge grin crossed her face. She grabbed his arm and knew just what to do since this wasn't the first time the god had taken his healing for granted and done something dumb with his body. Kid braced for the painful pressure that would come and in their distraction, neither noticed that the truck had stopped moving.

"One. Two. Three!" Patty cheered and there was a loud bang. The doors to the truck slammed opened and before Patty could do anything, two arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her from the truck.

"Patty!" Liz screamed. In an instant, a reflex band had Patty back into her gun form and pointed at Kid who quickly raised Liz in defense. On the ground were eight men, four of them with their own guns pointed at him, but unlike Liz and Patty these wouldn't shoot wavelengths.

"Hand over your weapon and come out now." The leader, a man slightly larger than the others, shouted in rough English before pulling out a different hand gun, the metal corpse refitted to accept bullets like the others. They all wore white, except for three of them that were splattered with the blood of their former drivers. There was a dilapidated shed to one side of the road and on the other side, a ditch before the tiny bank on the edge of a wide partially frozen lake.

"I demand you return my weapon." Kid said sternly, his hold on Liz tightening. It was a bluff. Even now, Kid was trying to work up the strength it would take to fire one gun when the other hand was empty at the end of his currently unusable arm. God, how stupid, dislocating his own arm. The timing was horrible.

The man sighed before glancing at the lake and flashing Kid a grin. Without warning, or any sly remarks, the man tossed Patty towards the mostly frozen over lake next to them. If she fell in there, the cold would have the same effect as if she was in her human form. She'd quickly drown, unable to do anything but sink. Kid had to think quickly and he began to run scenarios in his mind. There'd only be one chance and he only had one hand.

Before Kid could act though, Liz had leapt from his hand, transforming in the air in time to catch Patty before falling into the frozen water.

"Liz!" Kid jumped from the truck, only for the men to grab him. He began to fight back, kicking one man in the face, ducking a grab, moving closer to the water, jumping another attempt, even taking a bullet or two to the back before one man was able to grab his dislocated arm and two others tackled him to the muddy earth on the bank. The leader of the men squatted down and smiled at Kid before looking to his group.

"Hold him. You three, wait for the girl to surface and shoot." He stood and walked from Kid's sight. There, in the cold mud, in great pain and under two large men, Kid watch three others move to the water's surface with their guns pointed.

"I'll go with you, just leave them alone!" Kid yelled, knowing that any second Liz would surface.

"Take aim."

"No!" No this couldn't be happening. In horror, Kid watched as Liz broke the surface of the water, gasping for breath, her hair clinging to her skin. For a brief second he caught her eyes and saw the confusion in them turn into fear. She was able to lift Patty out of the water and aim, not at one of the three men aiming at her, but at one of the two on top of Kid.

When it came down to it, Liz was infinitely brave.

One of the two men toppled off of Kid and she gave him a pleased, loving grin before the three men opened fire on her.

"Liz!" Kid was able to push the other man off. He struggled past the three man firing squad and into the water, wrapping himself around her and taking the rest of the shots. There was so much blood coming from wounds on her that he was too frantic to number.

"Kid..." Liz swallowed, stuffing Patty under his belt. "You'll take...care of her, right?"

Mortals were dandelions. Golden for a few days before fading to white. White like her frozen skin. No, they were precious roses, meant to be enjoyed, with soft, deep red petals like the blood staining the pure white fabric of her winter coat.

Funny, Liz thought as she looked from his eyes to the trees. The branches were still moving in slow motion. It wasn't cold anymore and the anxiousness faded away to calm. Kid was yelling at her, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. It was such a sad face he was making. She had never seen such a sad face on him. Slowly, Liz pulled up a hand to touch his cheek, surprised to see it leave smears of red. Oh yeah…

Think of butterflies.

Think of hearts and diamonds, Liz wanted to tell him. Everything would be alright. The edges of her vision were growing darker and she could see three men wade into the water and grab his shoulders and arms. She hardly felt their rough hands pull her from him. Kid fought to reach out for her, but Liz couldn't gather the strength to move. She simply floated back into the water. The sky was wide and so very gray. It was so quiet.

The water she slipped under was just as consuming, just as calming as the blackness that followed.

Liz Thompson was pleased, over all. She had seen this coming, and she had made use of all of her opportunities. She had done everything in her power to protect her sister. She had done everything in her power to care for her unbalanced yet loveable meister. She fulfilled all promises made and left no regrets behind.

This was it, and it was ok.

Like butterflies and hearts.

Like see saws and tea cups.

Like roses, like dandelions.

Like home.

Like home.


	8. Mama

**A/N: WARNING! **This chapter contains described gore and violence. If this bothers you, I have a toned down version that I will gladly send you if you send me a PM. If you have no problem watching CSI, you'll have no problem with this chapter.

For this chapter, I suggest "Mama" by My Chemical Romance.

**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter 8**

She was fading. He could feel the wavering, shifting, breaking pulse of her soul just beyond his fingertips.

Four men, eight hands grabbed, pulled, ripped him backwards and away from his first true friend. His dear partner. His balance. His peach colored rose. He could almost see the color of her black and white outfit under the surface of the bitter water that swirled red with her blood.

She was fading and he could feel, _feel_ her heartbeat coursing around him. Slowing. Struggling.

Kid made a little leeway, pulling the four men forward by sheer will, fighting back towards Liz. She was so close. Just a little further. If he could touch her, then maybe they could escape. If he could take her hand then everything would be ok. There were still things to discuss. There were things he still wanted to say!

Right as his fingertips brushed her skin, the dark gray daylight faded in the presence of the sparkling pink light shining under the water. It was mesmerizing, beautiful, graceful. It spread warmth through the water, as if some of the sun had fallen into the undeserving lake.

The weight of the men on his body faded, the cold of the water disappeared. All that remained was panic. No, it had to be his mind playing tricks on him. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true, it wasn't! This wasn't happening!

Out of the surface emerged the glistening, innocent, iridescent and shimmering soul of a weapon who had fulfilled her purpose and so much more. And there stood a young man, face to face with tragedy and regret. There stood a god of death witnessing death, held back by the men who had delivered it.

She had been the balance, the key, the start and end of everything.

The four men let go of him and Kid stumbled forward, cupping the delicate ball of light in his trembling hands, pulling her close to his chest. "You have no idea the mistake you've just made."

"What?" The hijacker's leader asked from the lake's bank. He cupped his hand around his ear, pushing his short wavy brown hair away. "I could not hear you over your tears."

And then he laughed. The man _laughed_. Kid turned his glare to him, his pupils pinpoints in rage. Balance was gone. Reason was gone. Only rage, only bloodlust was left and it came not just from his own grieving soul but that of his remaining gun.

Patty had had a front row seat in Liz's execution, she had been in sync with her, she had seen the blood spray up close. Liz was her mother, her father, her best friend and beloved sister. She'd died cold and alone in murky water without anyone to hold her and tell her it was going to be ok. Liz deserved a happy ending for all of the suffering she had endured! If Kid didn't murder each and every one of these men and the people they worked for, she would. With her bare hands.

They'd both provide the best death that insanity would allow.

It was a little funny actually. Here was the boss of some hijacking cowards laughing at him, but soon. Oh soon they'd be dead. More than dead. As the leader laughed, Kid threw back his head, laughing louder than anyone else. He placed Liz's soul into his palm collection before grabbing his left arm, and snapping it back into place himself.

Kid changed then. No longer was he an anguished meister, but truly a God of Death, prepared to deliver his name sake to all present. He raised Patty up to eye level, peering down her barrel and tilting his head. "You still hanging in there?"

"Yep!" Her giggle was much lower than normal without any sort of pattern.

"Are you ready to get dirty?" He asked, bringing the end of her barrel to rest on his bottom lip. "Because I promise that you're going to get a new coat of red."

"You always promise me such nice things."

The four men standing behind Kid looked to one another before turning and running for the bank. Slowly, Kid raised Patty into the air and in a flash of dark purple light, her form changed. Insanity was special like that. Without the burden of reason, power surged forward amplified by hatred and bloodlust from mortal and immortal, changing the silver hand gun into a long black pump action double barrel shotgun with a Shinigami skull in the ebony stock and forend. It was just one gun, but the double barrel was a sweet touch.

Kid smiled as he rested the stock against his shoulder and listened to the glorious Chi-clack of her forend as he slid it forward and then back. No, even more melodious than that was the sound of it going off, their anger echoing off the surrounding trees. No! Even better than that! Even better was the sound of blood and body parts hitting the water. With tightly packed, hardened and unrestrained wavelengths, the rounds came out just as hard as any buckshot. It didn't just penetrate and break apart tissue, it scalded and cursed the flesh it touched.

Four men running were now just three. One floated in the water missing from his left ribs to right shoulder. The next sound of a gunshot was the only thing you could hear over the laughter of the wronged god.

The leader on the bank smiled.

* * *

In Nevada, Pavel spit blood on the floor of the holding cell he had been kept in. He was currently tied to a chair in the dim room, not that his swollen eyes let him see much.

"Who is the leader of your organization?" Stein asked in the dark corner. Spirit stood ready to hit the prisoner again on the doctor's cue.

Pavel only laughed, smiling with blood smeared teeth. "Tell me, good doctor, what will you do when there are no more weapons to hide behind? Would you be so cocky?"

There was a moment of silence, as if the man was considering it. The shadow over him broke with the flash of a match and then the glow of his cigarette. Smoke wafted from the inky black before the lumbering, stitch faced man stepped forward until he was directly over the captured arms dealer. Pavel only sneered up at him, showing no sign of intimidation, despite the murderous glint in Stein's eyes.

"It depends on how insane I'm feeling that day. I would love to dissect you to find out how a man lives with no soul."

Pavel only laughed at that before sputtering blood into Stein's face. "You are the soulless ones, lording over countries, taking taxes from the governments to fund your army while the governments tax us more to compensate. You sit in a castle of school while we starve in the streets."

"Is that how you justify killing innocent people?" Spirit asked as Stein wiped off his face with a patchwork handkerchief.

"Not people. Things. Weapons are things deep down, pretending to be people. Just tools for use. Not people." To that, Spirit burst forth his arm scythes only for Stein to put a warning hand on the redhead's chest. No sense in killing the lead that two of their best student teams had suffered to capture.

Stein leaned forward, pulling a scalpel from his lab coat pocket and held it to the man's cheek. "We're going to stop your organization, you know this. Just tell us who sent you here and maybe we'll let you live."

"Fine, fine I will tell you." Pavel tilted his head away from the edge of the blade. "Just tell me one thing, good doctor." His eyes searched Stein's, a secret just waiting to burst from his busted and bleeding lips.

Stein straightened and stuffed his hands into his pockets. There'd be no harm in humoring a dead man. "What?"

"What time is it?" Silence filled the room.

Finally, Spirit pushed up his suit sleeve. "Eight pm."

Pavel just laughed. A long joyous laugh, his head tilted back as if that was the punch line to the joke of the century.

"What is it, you worm? What's so funny?" Spirit grabbed the man's shirt and shook him. "How dare you laugh! Don't you know we could destroy you?"

"You are too late. Operation Pawn as you have called us. We have won. Alexi has finished his mission by now."

Spirit punched Pavel in the face, sending the chair and man toppling backwards, but still he laughed. Stein however was silent, his mind piecing things together.

"Go ahead! Kill me!" Pavel continued. "I will go happily knowing I played key role in end of the tyrant army! Brother, did you see? I avenged your death. We were a success!"

Spirit moved to happily oblige the man but Stein just grabbed his sleeve, pulling the weapon from the room and shutting the door, Pavel's laughter still seeping past the heavy locks.

"What's the big deal? Let's at least take him out." He frowned as Stein continued to drag him through the hallway.

"We have bigger things to worry about. Use your brain. Why would he need to know the time?"

"Because there weren't any clocks in the cell?" Spirit asked, trying to wiggle his arm free. "I don't care why! He was clearly nuts. I beat the sane right out of him!"

"Your stupidity fails to lighten the mood yet again." The doctor sighed, looking over his shoulder.

"You're the one playing twenty questions! Damn it, Stein! I'm a scythe, not a mind reader!"

He stopped and turned to Spirit with a very serious expression. "Did you just throw a Star Trek reference at me?"

"There was a marathon last night." The way Spirit whined, it made Stein flinch. "You wouldn't let me see my daughter while she was on her death bed, so I couldn't sleep!"

"It wasn't her death bed and-Never mind." He grabbed Spirit's wrist and continued to drag him down the corridor. "They must have predicted that we'd send Kid to Russia after Azusa. Azusa was probably bait from the beginning. All they needed was a little prodding from Titov to get us into motion. Damn it."

"How in the world would they know that we'd send him? I think you're giving that moron a little too much credit here. Can't you maybe slow down a little?" He was stumbling just to keep up. Of course, Stein ignored his request.

"When you need to catch a mouse, you send in a cat. When you need to get rid of a cat you send in a dog. What is more powerful than a deathscythe?"

"Oh." The deathscythe swallowed, beginning to comprehend just how bad the situation was. "If they capture Kid, then they can use him to make demands."

"No." Stein shook his head. "It's worse than that. Much. Much worse."

* * *

Funny, how warm the insides of human torsos were, Kid mused, as he shot a hole into one man and grabbed an exposed rib to use the torso as a shield to block gunfire. The panicked solider who had been firing stopped and desperately fumbled with his new magazine, only to drop it into the mud.

"Aww, can't shoot an unarmed man. It wouldn't be fair." He laughed, pushing Patty's barrels into the dirt to hold her as he ripped off the head of his meat shield and threw it. The skull made a sickening crack as it fractured the other man's head, sending him backwards.

"Shoulda ducked." Patty laughed, smiling a twisted smile in the black reflection of her long barrels. His blood drenched hand gripped her stock and pulled her up to his shoulder as he tossed the torso to the ground and shot it four more times. For the fun of it.

Once that was done, he grabbed the man's soul and held it up. A human soul. Not a kishin egg at all. It still didn't deserve to exist. It was too foul to ever consider devouring and Kid would rather die than allow it to move on. So instead, the god squeezed the soul until the outside burst and it oozed between his fingers, thick and slow. With a flick of his wrist, Kid shook off the goo and moved on to the other man on the ground and held Patty's cold metal to the man's face before her chi-clack ushered in the blood spray. Seven bodies were scattered in bits and pieces around the lake and the bank. All that remained was the leader who had retreated into the woods like a coward.

He could run all he wanted, but Death was sure to catch up with him.

Alexi Mirkov, the leader of the hijackers was the fastest man in the team, but he certainly couldn't out run a furious god. There was no such thing. It was good that he was also the smartest man in the team as well. Up ahead was an old plastic factory that used to make bracelets. He made it out of the woods and across a tall grass field to the chain link fence which he quickly climbed over. Alexi's hand grabbed the handle to the back door and was about to swing it open when a drop of blood touched his wrist.

On the roof ledge sat Kid, legs crossed with a warped grin on his blood soaked face, his insane shotgun trained between Alexi's eyes. "Is this your headquarters?" The death god shifted the forend of his riffle and Alexi slowly nodded.

"Good boy. Why don't you stay out here while I end this? I promise to kill you last, nice and slow, that way we both can really enjoy it." Alexi stepped away from the door and Kid jumped down and used the Russian's shirt to wipe off his hands and Patty's forend before patting the man's cheek. "See you in a few minutes. And don't try running away. I will hunt you down." When all Alexi did was stare in fear, Kid stepped past him and into the factory.

Alexi was the fastest and brightest of his group, that's why he couldn't help but to smirk once the door was closed and the sound of gunshots were heard. He turned and rushed back out into the field and pulled out his cell phone.

"Hello? Yes. It is done." The sound of his helicopter was just off in the short distance.

* * *

The feeling of grass tickling her cheek caused Liz to take a deep breath in. The rich smell of dirt and the warmth of the earth was so welcomed as it chased away the last lingering notions of coldness that clung to her skin. She didn't need to open her eyes.

Everything had ended and this was her time to rest. No more need to worry. No more need to be afraid. There was nothing expected of her here. Slowly she rolled from her side onto her back and lifted her eyelids to find the sun above. He was partially obscured by clouds, his face looking down at her sadly. Almost as sad as _his_ face had been.

In all honesty, Liz was shocked that Kid had been as heartbroken as he was. She rolled back onto her side, trying to block Kid's face from her mind. Why did he have to look so sad? She was just a part of a set, a friend at best to him. There was no way it had been more. Which was for the best, because if he did feel any sort of way, then her death would be even more painful now than when it had happened. She'd have an eternity to think about the could-haves and what-ifs rather than just let it all go. She was happy with her life! Given the crap she had been handed, she had made it into something good. She was happy with it! She was Happy! She had done everything she could!

No. She wasn't and no she hadn't. Not everything she had wanted, not everything that she could have done. If only she had just hung on a little longer…

Liz gripped the blades of grass and pulled them up from the ground, cutting off their life. The severed and broken roots dangled in her view. That bastard! How dare he take away her peaceful rest with _that face_? As if his whole world was disappearing in front of him. As if the words she had spent years dreaming about hearing were on their way and if she had just hung on a few more moments—Liz threw the blades of grass in anger as her eyes grew hot. He was so spoiled and selfish! All she wanted was to rest now, how could the dead be haunted by the living? Would this be how it would be forever? Thinking about someone who'd never join her in the beyond? And why did she feel him? All around her beat the pulse of his soul.

She was alone, but his ghost still pestered her, hung oppressively over her. He had been so sad, why? Why would anyone be sad at her death? She was nothing in the beginning and nothing at the end. Even Patty could be happy with someone who could provide for her better than she ever could! This was best, but he wouldn't leave! The tears in his eyes, his parted lips pulled into that gaping frown, screaming her name, those eyes!

"What do you want?" Liz sat up, screaming at nothing. "Just go away! I don't have anything left to give you! I gave you everything, just let me rest!"

"Is that how you truly feel?" Liz turned to see Kid standing there, utterly coated in blood. There was even a trail in the grass as he had approached her. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I woke up here. I assumed this was heaven, or whatever! Is that blood?"

Kid looked down at himself before looking at her with lost, sad eyes. "I don't know. I don't know what's going on. Are you alright?" He walked towards her and Liz scrambled backwards.

"Don't touch me! You're gross! Don't you remember what happened?" He stopped in his approach and stared at the grass before looking at her.

"You were shot, and then…I can't remember. I placed you into my soul collection and then the rest is hazy."

He had put her into collection? Like he did with his skateboard or random books? So she was a thing to him after all…

"Well if you're here, then I guess this isn't heaven." He flinched at her wording, but Liz continued. "I must be inside you."

"I suppose it's possible for you to enter my soul since we've shared a bond." But he just stood there, shoulders slumped, looking helplessly sad. As much as Liz would love to prod him for answers to the questions in her head, there were more important matters to tend to.

"Well get a hold of yourself." Liz took a deep breath. "If the way you look is any indication of what you've been up to while you 'can't remember,' then you're probably doing something dumb. If Patty's in danger too, I'll make your life hell from the inside out, got it?"

He just stared at her, not nodding or acknowledging her threat and slowly, a grin crossed his face. "I'm so relieved that you're still here."

"If you don't hurry and deal with this, I'll leave before you get back." It was an empty threat, she had no idea how to get outta here. Even so, Kid nodded and disappeared in front of her.

Even dead, it seemed her work was never done.

* * *

It was quiet in the factory. Only the sounds of unattended machinery and the dripping of blood filtered through the industrial space. He blinked twice before the gore strewn scene registered and he brought a hand to his mouth to fight back the urge to vomit. In his other hand was Patty, still in her dark insane form and he could feel the irregular wavelength coming from her.

They had done this. Both of them had been dangerously unstable and now, there was no way to count those dead with how many random pieces they had been split into. That's right, this was Operation Pawn's headquarters. He had come in and annihilated every person involved. At least, that's what he could recall. It was very vague in his mind. To the right were crates stamped with "Weapon" on them. No, this had to be the right place.

"Patty, can you hear me?" He looked to the gun metal and found her reflection. This wasn't the care free giggling young woman he knew. She peered at him from the darkness with such a warped smile that he quickly put the gun down. "Patty, it's over, you can relax now."

"Relax? We're just getting started! Let's go hunt down the other warehouses! Let's find the arms dealers! Let's destroy everything!"

"No. There's been enough killing for one day."

"I demand it! Use me! Use me! They killed her, Kid, we have to! She was my everything! You can't let them get away with it! Don't you care?"

His knees were shaking at this point. The stress of everything, the weight of failure and loss, the suffocating stench of blood and the pulsating madness and grief from Patty was taking their toll. Sadly, he rested her barrels on his shoulder before leaving.

At least it was over. Operation Pawn was destroyed and there was nothing left to worry about.

Stein waited impatiently at the mansion for Kid to arrive. He hadn't sat down yet and it was starting to bother Spirit. How could anyone pace around in a place of luxury like this? He snuggled deeper into the black leather couch he was sitting in, took in the huge flat screen, admired the high vaulted ceiling. Man, the kid had it good!

When Stein passed by his view again, Spirit sighed. "Just sit down, he'll get here when he gets here."

"You're only so care free because you still have no idea what's going on." Stein snapped at him. Kid finally walked in and he walked in alone. He was clean, but he still felt exhausted, filthy and ashamed.

"Hey where's the girls?" Spirit asked, looking over. Kid said nothing as he shut the door and Stein wondered if it had been a good idea to bring him along.

"We have to discuss your mission." Stein frowned down at Kid.

"This couldn't wait until my debriefing?" he sighed, moving from the mansion doors and slipping from his suit jacket. "I don't wish to repeat everything when I tell Father about-"

"Your father doesn't want to see you." Stein said coldly, freezing the young Shinigami in his motions, jacket half off of his shoulders. Slowly Kid looked up at Stein.

"What do you mean he doesn't want to see me?"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Stein crossed his arms. Kid swallowed, not liking where this was going. He was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. He didn't deserve to be treated so coldly when he walked into his home.

"All things considered, I think I stopped a war." Kid narrowed his eyes. "I took out the operation's headquarters."

"You lost control. You know better than that. All of us are incredibly disappointed, your father especially."

"We were hijacked! They killed Liz!" Kid shouted, stepping closer, his hand on his chest. "They killed her in front of me and you're scolding me for losing control of my emotions?"

"Weapons are you colleagues, nothing more." Stein frowned. "If someone killed that moron," he pointed at Spirit. "I'd miss his babbling, maybe, but I wouldn't snap and lose all of my reasoning! If you had remained in control maybe Patty wouldn't be in quarantine."

Kid glared up at Stein for that, regardless if it was true or not. Stein, being high in administration had been alerted when Kid had first returned from the trip and had to reluctantly hand Patty over. For the whole 13 hour flight he had tried to calm her, but had no luck in reaching Patty and bringing her back. In one mission, he had lost them both and now Stein was here belittling him?

"Maybe that's because you already lack any sense of humanity." Kid sneered. His metal rings pinched a little as he clenched his fists. "Please leave."

"Tell me, then, why men who kidnap and sell weapons would want to kill yours? Please explain if you know so much. Wouldn't they sell for a very high price? Wouldn't they be extremely powerful as real automatic weapons?"

"Of course they would! Your line of questioning is incredibly insensitive, didn't you hear me when I told you that they _murdered _her? To top it off, I couldn't return Patty to normal! I did everything I could!"

"Then why? Why did they kill Liz, did you stop to think? None of you ever _**think**_ when you're on missions!" The doctor was ranting at this point. "The target was never you, it was them!" Kid's eyes widened at that and Stein stepped closer, pushing his finger into the boy's chest.

"What you went through doesn't excuse your actions. Let me tell you a little bit about your classmates and how their mission went. Black Star, like you, didn't _think_ in the middle of his battle and used Tsubaki, and now she's a walking shell lost in a coma she may never recover from. You're not the only one who lost someone. After the battle to capture Pavel, Maka had a mental break down and Soul, who is a _one star weapon_, was able to help her recover and they did it without murdering anyone! You're a Shinigami and you couldn't even recover your own weapon."

Stein stepped back, raising his arms in exasperation. "And they did all of that to capture an arms dealer who laughed in our faces because he KNEW you would mess up! They were counting on it. We were hoping Pavel would give us the lead that would help us to stop the war but in the end it was all a waste! All they had to do was ruin your symmetry and take away just one of your weapons and you'd lose it."

No, none of that could be right. The hijackers they encountered were evil men, killing is what evil men do…He counted on, treasured Liz, his actions weren't wrong. Those men deserved to die just like everyone tied to the operation.

"Tell me," Stein continued when Kid stood there silent. "How many armed guards were at the headquarters?"

"I..I don't remember." He was staring at nothing on the floor, trying to recall anything. It was all just a haze.

"You're expecting me to believe a base of operations that deals weapons wouldn't have any memorable defense? If you don't remember then there weren't any. Did you see anyone testing the arms tech that we've recovered from them?"

Stein's words…he just wanted them to stop. His angry raised voice was pounding in Kid's head.

"They were...they were making bracelets, I assumed. There were crates that were marked weapon."

"You didn't even bother to look at the building!" Stein held his head, turning away for a moment before pointing at Kid. "You walked into a factory and massacred hundreds of innocent unarmed low wage workers!"

"But the crates-"

"Their company's name in English is Weapons of Fashion! It was a trap from the start and you walked right into it." Stein shook his head, looking at Kid with no sympathy for what had happened. Only disappointment, anger, and disgust.

"You didn't stop the war. You started it."

Kid faltered, crumbling to his backside on the floor, but the doctor wasn't finished with him yet. He walked over and squatted down to Kid's level.

"Do you know what the media will do with this? How is anyone going to trust Shibusen when our own heir is painted as a monster who blows away innocent civilians with no cause? They're going to come and take away every weapon and destroy everything your father built. One thing you were taught over and over again was not to get attached to your weapons. Do you see why? Do you understand now?" He stood and stared down at him. "Get a shower and change and take a long look around your home because you're coming with me to start on our press conferences. If the Russian government demands your surrender, we will give you to them if it means stopping a war and saving our image."

In Russia, Alexi Mirkov threw back his glass of clear hard liquor in the true base of operations. He poured another and raised it in the presence of dozens of gathered comrades.

"Yспех!**"**

A toast to the fastest and brightest of them all.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank my friends who helped me out with their wonderful amazing opinions as I wrote and rewrote this chapter. If you want a preview of the next chapter, check my profile often. I put up different snippets of upcoming chapters along with the theme song. You can often get hints from the lyrics!


	9. No World for Tomorrow

For this chapter, we have: No World for Tomorrow by Coheed and Cambria

For other music to consider, I suggest How Far We've Come by Matchbox 20 as well, if Coheed is a little too hard for your tastes.

**Beloved Helpless **

**Chapter 9**

All things considered, it had worked out for the best.

Soul stared at his cereal, watching the flakes as they absorbed the milk. The past day and a half, Maka had been strangely nice to him. She'd only nagged maybe twice and only hit him once, both of which were record lows. A part of him was incredibly pleased with the change, but another part was worried. Since she wasn't busy yelling or ignoring him, he had seen her smile more. Since she wasn't busy glaring at him and looking away, he had seen her eyes light up a few times. Since they had gotten back from the hospital, she had been a whole new Maka. But what did it mean? It meant that, as he had thought before, there wasn't any going back. But this was different. This change was good, right?

"I wonder how Kid's mission went." Maka said as she finished buttering her toast. This morning was particularly hot and their air conditioner had decided to kick the bucket while they were gone, so both of them were dressed in tank tops and shorts. The sounds of fans buzzing filled the quiet space between their munching and words.

"Eh, you know that perfectionist." He shrugged and poured new flakes into his bowl. "It probably went off without a hitch but he'll come back and complain to us about how the bow on the guys' boots were messed up."

"Probably." Maka agreed with a small amused grin before she wiped some sweat from her forehead. "I promised Liz that I'd tag along for the spa day Kid had promised her and Patty."

Soul shoveled a huge spoonful of cereal in his mouth, chewed twice and asked with his mouth full, "What's the big deal about a spa anyway? We have cucumbers, mud, and hot water right here."

Typically, Maka would have hit him or yelled about manners, but something bubbly in her just made her shrug. "Well first, the spa will have an AC and more importantly, they give massages there. Wielding your huge butt is tough on my back and shoulders."

Soul blinked at that, paused in mid chew. Who _was_ this girl and what had she done with his Maka? It had to be the heat, but the way her hair was sticking to the sides of her face, the way her lips stayed slightly parted as she breathed in the humidity—Crap, he was staring. Soul straightened and swallowed.

"Any moron can massage someone."

"Oh yeah? I bet you can't do it right." She was baiting, but Soul couldn't resist.

He raising an eyebrow "And if I do, what will you give me?"

"I'll give you the $30 it usually costs." Maka smirked at him before bringing her toast to her lips.

"I dunno…" Soul looked away, not wanting to linger on any part of her face for too long or risk looking suspicious. "I could do a perfect job and you could just say it sucked and not pay me."

"Are you saying you don't trust me?" Her tone turned much more serious as she straightened. "You know that a weapon and meister's partnership hinges on trust."

"Fine, fine." He stood and pushed in his chair and walked behind her. This was no big deal. He'd just rub her shoulders, earn a quick thirty bucks and maybe grab Black Star and have a guy's night out while Maka went off with the girls to do what girls do. He looked down at her shoulders, noticing how her thin graceful neck met and melded into them showing the smallest shadows of her spine as Maka bowed her head a bit to grant him more access. How her collar bone was just visible from over her shoulder and under the collar of her tank top. And how could he miss her bra straps peeking out from the straps of her tank top? That was part of her underwear, the last line of clothing under her shirt in all its cute pink ribbon-like satin. Yea. This was no big deal. He had to focus.

Soul moved some of her hair away, surprised by how soft it was. Carefully, He put his hands on her shoulders and felt the soft warmth of her skin and how it was slightly moist from the heat. He began to work his fingers against her and sure enough, her muscles were just as tense as she had suggested. Maka worked so hard for the both of them. This seemed like such a simple, obvious thing he could do for her. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?

Because she would have killed him for trying before. Things were changing between them and it was nice. However, Soul's thoughts were interrupted when Maka began to make little sounds of pleasure, little 'mmms' that were sending his mind right off into the deepest end of the gutter. It was such a _nice_ sound, and it was his hands that were bringing it forth. The bet and massage was quickly changing into something else as his mind likened her shoulders and the sensitive skin of her neck to that of an instrument. His hand movements were carefully planned in order to produce new, more appealing _music_ from her.

Pianist fingers were wondrous things indeed, Maka mused. So dexterous and strong but so careful as they slipped under the shoulder straps of her tank top, the sensation only interrupted as they fluttered over her bra straps. Oh the wonders they could do in other—The phone rang and Soul pulled his hands from her, earning an unexpected whimper of disappointment.

He strolled over to the wall mounted phone and answered as Maka sat up and fanned herself, trying to regain her composure and get her heart rate under control. It wouldn't be any fun to let him know just how good he was at it. Any moment, he'd come back and pick up where he left off…

But Soul just stood there, back facing her as he listened to whoever was on the phone, and from across the room Maka could feel the air change as if a draft had swept into the apartment, chilling all of the warmth they were experiencing before. He said nothing during the whole thing, but she had seen his shoulders hunch, then slump before his hand returned the receiver to its cradle and fell limply back to his side. Maka got up and walked over, her bare feet making no noise, yet somehow he knew she was there before her raised hand touched his shoulder.

"Liz is dead." The words echoed in the apartment, only joined by the whirl of fans and the muffled sounds of life outside.

"What?" Maka hadn't heard it right, obviously. He couldn't have just said what she'd thought he had said.

"The mission in Russia was a disaster." Soul's voice was suddenly dry as he looked over his shoulder at her. "Stein said to keep an eye on the news. He'd give us more information later…"

"He has to be joking, right?" Maka half laughed, wanting so much to believe it was some strange ill-thought joke. "There's no way Kid would let anything happen to Liz or Patty. I mean, he's a God, if anyone could protect their weapons the most it'd be him."

"It sure as hell didn't sound like a joke." He stepped away into the living room and sat heavily on the couch. The tv came to life and Maka sat next to him.

That's where they had been when the world had begun to fall apart…

"_It's not that I don't think that Shibusen can do a good job of protecting us, it's just that I think that it's time for us to protect ourselves." _

The TV played over its speakers the words that were ushering in the end.

"_How can we trust an organization with our safety, I mean, what do we know about any of them? Nothing! I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened sooner!"_

"_It's not like weapons are even people. They're not human. Should they really get the same rights?"_

On the screen were the shocked and angered faces of humans who had no idea what weapon and meister teams went through to protect them. There they stood, voicing fears, voicing concerns about things they couldn't possibly understand.

Black Star frowned at the white spots on his black shirts. Maybe mixing bleach with regular soap wasn't a better way to wash his clothes after all. He had left Tsubaki in the living room in front of the TV while he waited for the dryer to finish.

"Finally!" The machine buzzed and thumped to a stop. He swung it open and pulled out his pants that were now toddler sized. "Oh c'mon! That's impossible!" After his shout finished bouncing off of the small laundry room walls, Black Star could faintly hear sniffles coming from down the hall.

"Tsubaki?" He peeked his head into the living room to find her sitting on the couch, watching the news with tears in her eyes.

"_The death of one girl doesn't justify the slaughtering of 578 innocent people. If nothing else, I hope that the Russian government demands his capture, because all those grieving families are going to want justice. They deserve justice."_

"_Do you buy the story that the whole thing had been an accident? A miscommunication?"_

"_No, and I really can't see Shibusen recovering after something like this. Fifteen countries have already canceled their contracts with them, the United States included. I'm sure that others will follow after."_

The news reports were skewed, detailing how a routine road stop by Russian officials had ended in the accidental death of Liz Thompson. They told how the unbalanced Shinigami heir then lost control and went on to massacre all of the workers in the nearby factory. Another station had said that the factory was attacked because of a miscommunication between Kid, who used no mercy or discernment in his killings, and his father who had ordered the hit. Others took the opportunity to spout conspiracy theories about how this was the first step of some plan of Shibusen's to wipe out humans all together.

No matter what version the people heard, it spawned paranoia and doubt all around. That had been Operation Pawn's goal all along. Not the selling of weapons, although that was a nice bonus, no, it was about this: provoking one mistake that would destroy the delicate trust between the public and Shibusen. Why try to fight an army of weapons and technicians when you could have popular opinion do it for you? It wouldn't be an all out war between Shibusen and witches, or the reign of some powerful Kishin, but whispers, rumors and news articles that would kill them. Their enemy was no longer wielding magic but online blogs and microphones and web cams and the voices were growing louder.

The cracks were growing larger.

Maka called Stein to ask about Kid, but the doctor explained they were too busy to answer her questions for now. The school was closed, all missions were canceled until further notice. She couldn't even get a hold of her father, which only proved to worry her more. To help calmly pass the time, Maka and Soul would go to visit Black Star and show him the finer points of house work. In reality it was three friends trying to help keep each other from falling into panic as the world around them began to turn against them. Soul and Maka's presence helped alleviate the pounding silence. Black Star had never thought, in his entire life, that he'd ever get sick of the sound of his own voice. But nope. It had happened and the TV was no longer an option to help lift silence from the air of his apartment. If Tsubaki didn't get better soon…

On the third day of news hysteria and silence from Shibusen, Soul took Maka out for pizza.

It wasn't a date by any means, because both had been too distracted by recent events to discuss anything like that. They simply needed someone else to worry about the cooking and cleaning for tonight. Quietly, they both slipped into their normal booth. Across the restaurant, a group of humans from Death City General High were looking at them and whispering. Days ago, Soul had wondered at the space between the two worlds of Shibusen and humans and now the space seemed unreachable. Unlike then, Soul didn't envy that world at all. This was the right place, he was doing the right thing, he was sure of it, all with the right person. He wouldn't give that up for all of humanity and their fears.

Amber, the favorite young waitress there, walked up and looked at Soul with a bit of hesitance. "I-I'm sorry, but my manager doesn't want us serving anyone from Shibusen. You're Shibusen kids, aren't you?" He sighed and held his forehead, feeling this going to a bad place fast.

Maka stood, a frown clear on her face. "What do you mean you don't want to serve us? Our money is just as good as anyone else's."

"Please don't hurt me!" She held her order pad up to shield her face. "I'm sorry!"

"We've worked so hard to protect all of you! Do you have any idea the stuff we've gone through to make sure that all of you could sleep safely?"

Amber was crying at this point and three guys from the other table rushed over. "Back off! If you're going to fight anyone, fight us, freak!"

"I'll show you a freak," Maka growled, balling her hands into fists.

Soul stood, hands raised. "We're going we're going. The pizza here sucks any way. C'mon, Maka."

"No! I demand an apology." She glared at Soul. "How can you just sit there and let them tell us that we're not good enough for their greasy pizza?"

"Because it's not worth making a scene over. Don't get into any lame fights, remember?" Soul then turned to let Amber know it was ok. He put a hand on her shoulder, only for the girl to scream in fear. One guy threw a punch that Soul ducked. Maka took a swing, hitting one of the three guys in the jaw and soon the whole thing just fell into a mess of kicks, punches and obscenities. The uninvolved patrons took video footage with their cell phones and mp3 players. This would only go towards justifying the discrimination between the races. They'd blog about how a weapon and meister walked into an innocent pizzeria and attacked a pretty, defenseless waitress and three courageous young men risked life and body to protect her.

One of the teens grabbed Maka and pinned her to the wall by the neck. "Freaks like you two shouldn't be allowed to just walk around!"

It was all reflexes at that point. The lack of air and the spark from her soul was enough to have Soul rush from the struggle with the two other teens, to her side and into her hands. The boy let her go right away and backed up as Maka tightened her grip on Soul's staff.

"All of you disgust me. We've sacrificed so much for you!" The whole establishment was silent, the human patrons staring in fear at the panting, enraged meister with her large bladed weapon. She turned and pointed Soul's blade at one of the boys. "Are you scared? If you think things are scary now, just wait. Without Shibusen you'll have much worse things to fear than us. Things you can't imagine will crawl out of every shadow and you'll wish you had someone to protect you."

Maka put the end of his staff down and let Soul shift back, her frown still planted on her face. "None of you deserve us. Let's go, Soul." And with that, they both left.

Soul gently put a hand on her shoulder once they were outside. "Hey, don't let it get to you." He could feel the anger boiling off her skin. "When all of this cools down, everyone will forget about all it."

"But what if it doesn't cool down?" She shrugged from his hand.

"Of course things will cool down. Shinigami-Sama's got it covered, I'm sure, I mean." He ran a hand through his hair. "Worse things have happened than this, right?"

"Soul! Maka! Where the hell have you two been?" Black Star shouted as he ran over, Tsubaki in tow.

"Ah! Black Star, what's going on?" Maka rushed ahead to meet him half way.

"Out in front of the school they're setting up these huge TV screens! The President's going to make some announcement, and then Shinigami-Sama's gunna make a speech about everything right after. There's a ton of news trucks and stuff!"

They had missed the start of it by time they got there. The President was making an address from the Oval Office, behind his large elegant desk.

"In light of the recent events in Russia, it has come to our attention that the United States needs to play a more active role in her own defense. In a vote today, congress has decided to move towards creating regulations for weapons created by hand, deceased and useable, and those still living to ensure that the citizens of America and hopefully the world can feel safer in their protection. As of yesterday, we have canceled our contract with Shibusen and your state governments as well as the federal government have begun to put together its own law enforcement branches that will be in effect from this point on." As a politician, it was his job to sell half truths, and here in Death City the students and faculty of Shibusen could see through each and every one of them. This wasn't about protection. This was about power.

"As the majority, it is only right that humans have a say in the use and deployment of weapons." This was about fear.

"We have begun to develop technology that will allow humans use of living weapons with little to no damage to the weapon itself. That is why we're calling for a nation-wide confiscation of all living weapons." This was about controlling what they didn't understand and stripping the rights of a people who were different from them.

Above the murmurs in the crowd, Soul could hear Maka's breath catch at the news. This was a worse case scenario both of them had tried so hard to keep from thinking about. But here it was, the words still echoing off the sides of the buildings of the city. Maka's heart stopped as her hand reached for Soul's, squeezing it.

"In two days, government vans will be sent to all major cities before traveling into smaller towns. All weapons on record will be sought after and the other countries of the world have agreed to aid us in the confiscation effort. If any weapon attempts to leave the country, they will be turned into the proper authorities." Where had been the democracy in all of this?

"Your local law makers have all agreed on a bill stating that officials have the right to search homes for weapons. Anyone caught harboring living weapons will be fined with possible jail time. We hope to have this go on with little to no resistance. Once collected, weapons will be sent to our holding communities where they will be sorted and dispersed in a proper manner." Sorted, shipped. The only difference here was that they'd be in human forms, but bound all the same, shipped in trucks and vans rather than crates, still sent out to work for uncaring owners to do things regardless of their will.

"This is all necessary to provide the greater good with regulated protection and enforcement that we can all count on. Right now, we have officials in Death City, awaiting to hear the head of Shibusen's answer. Whether he agrees peacefully, or not, we will move on with the confiscation movement. Thank you, America. I will return you to your local broadcasts now." This wasn't an order to protect the peace. This was a declaration of war.

The megatrons flickered, showing Stein, Spirit and Shinigami-sama walking out to a podium at the top of the stairs. The city grew quiet as the present news teams aimed their cameras and the citizens held their breath. The death god looked out at all the faces, all the souls, all the lives that depended on him and his choices. And this choice, this one choice had ended up being a selfish choice deep down. If he had turned Kid in, he might have been able to postpone this by a month or so, but in the end confiscation was inevitable. In all his hundreds of years of protecting the world, he was allowed to make one selfish choice, right?

"Hey-oh everybody!" Shinigami-sama greeted enthusiastically, but it did nothing to lighten the mood. "It seems things have gotten pretty tough for us. If you didn't get here in time, or didn't hear, the government wants to collect up all our weapons and end Shibusen." He drooped a little, his animated body language still doing what it could to help relieve the severity of the situation. Soul, Maka, Black Star and Tsubaki in tow pushed to the front of the crowd to the very edge before the thin barrier. He was going to say that they were going to set up a perimeter, right? He was going to raise his big cartoon hand and shake it to the sky and shout 'Just let them try and get them!' Right?

The death god straightened "You might want to run away and you might want to fight, but don't. We're going to do what they say."

"You gotta be joking!" Black Star yelled up at him, foot on the barrier, ready to jump over it if necessary. "You taught us to protect our weapons like they protect us! I'm not just gunna hand Tsubaki over to some grunts and hope for the best! They'll have to pry her out of my cold dead fingers!" A rally of agreement sounded through the crowd but Shinigami-sama waved his hands.

"Right now, we need to show everybody that we're on their side! We can't do that by fighting. Even if we say no, they'll come for them. It'll be better if we all just got along until we can agree with the government on new rules and regulations. Shibusen will be back up and running in no time if we just do this without a lot of trouble. If we fight back then no one will think we're the good guys and Shibusen will never be able to work again. Do you understand?"

"Yeah! I understand you're a coward!" Black Star seethed. Being betrayed by humans was one thing, but when your own leader turns against everything you believe in! That was something else entirely!

"No one will want to take Tsubaki." Stein frowned, speaking into a microphone. "She's broken. Now shut up and respect your superiors."

"What the hell did you say?" He moved to rush up at the doctor, but Soul grabbed his arm. "Hey let go! Don't you understand what's going on? They're going to send you away too, you know! You'll never see me or Maka or anyone else ever again, that ok with you?"

"No it's not! But getting mad and making a scene in front of the whole world isn't going to fix it!" Soul shouted back, pulling Black Star back into the crowd. He turned the young ninja to look at the news cameras pointed at them. "Our image sucks already, don't make it worse."

"How could you care about image at a time like this?" Black Star grabbed Soul's shirt, shaking him "Don't tell me you're turning chicken like the rest! We have to fight for what we believe in! Don't you want to fight for Maka? I'd sure as hell fight for Tsubaki!"

"Of course I would but are you going to fight against unarmed people? Huh? What will that prove to anyone other than all we can do is kill people?" Black Star had no answer for that so he just shoved his friend and crossed his arms.

"Can't we work on a diplomatic solution without confiscation?" Maka yelled up at their leaders, her voice of reason welcomed over the boys' angry shouting. "There's got to be some way."

"No. The hysteria built up by the media has destroyed that option." Stein answered. "Some weapon and technicians have even been reported to have been beaten and killed in other parts of the country. It might actually be best for now if weapons are taken to safer locations. It will prove that we're serious about moving towards a peaceful agreement with the leaders of the world. The United States government has promised to keep careful records of all whereabouts of all confiscated living weapons so that family and friends may still contact them. We also have representatives that are going to each of these collection camps to make sure that they're treated fairly."

Stein turned, looking at his masked boss with pity. He couldn't imagine having to make choices like these… with a deep breath he looked past him to Spirit who was staring at his daughter.

"To prove that we're serious about this, Shinigami-sama will now turn over his own weapon."

Soul didn't have a chance to grab Maka, not that he would have stopped her. The whole world was watching this, they were witnessing the death of a culture, the end of an organization of order and peace. Families were going to be torn apart and it started with Maka. Everything always started with her.

She flew up the stairs and Spirit happily took her into his arms. It was a little bittersweet. He had always hoped to see her run up into his arms like she had when she was a little girl, but now… things were horribly different from those innocent times. If they hadn't made amends, he wondered for a moment if she would have rushed to him at all, but all the same the father held his daughter close.

Spirit kissed her head and stroked her hair, whispering "Papa will be ok."

"It's not fair. No one should have to leave, none of this makes sense." Maka had just got him back. Returned from her hatred, she had finally accepted her father back into her life and he was being pulled away?

"I'll probably end up in the same camp as Soul, so I'll go on ahead and keep an eye on him for you when he gets there." She buried her face into his chest at that and Spirit bit his lip. Maybe reminding her that Soul would be going too wasn't the best way to calm her. Gently he pulled from her to kneel on one knee and wiped away her tears. The weapon, the father, cupped her cheeks as the whole world listened.

"I am so proud of you and the young lady you've grown up to be. You'll get through this, I know it." Maka's eyes welled with new tears at that as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he closed the embrace.

"I'm so sorry for everything I put you through, Papa." She sobbed and flinched when she felt Stein's hand on her shoulder. On her other side stood two government officials who had come to collect her father. As if he was a thing, something to be controlled and not someone with a life, a grieving daughter or friends. Maka reluctantly let him go and Spirit stood and gave Stein a brief hug that the doctor only half heartedly returned.

He turned back to Maka and kissed her forehead. "I love you, Maka."

"I love you too Papa." She whispered back and leaned heavily on Stein as Spirit stepped towards the suited officials.

And like that, they ushered him away. Out of her life. She had spent so many years hating him and now he was gone. "Go back to the crowd now." Stein said quietly to Maka, away from the microphone. "You don't want too much attention, trust me."

She nodded numbly and with mechanical motions walked down the steps back to Black Star, back to Soul.

"Everyone, go home. All weapons pack one bag of things to bring with you. The confiscation movement begins here tomorrow afternoon and the day after in major cities."

Above the crowd, Kid watched the whole thing from a window within the school. This was his fault. Their suffering, their pain, the damage done was his doing and there was nothing he could do at this point to fix it. He had failed in every aspect. Failed as a meister. Failed as an heir. Failed as a son. Shibusen was ending and the world would fall into chaos thereafter.

He had tried to do the right thing and turn himself in, but his father refused to let that happen. Kid had made press statements that everything that had happened was a reflection of his own actions and not his Father or those who work for him, yet…it was strange. The same humans that so many weapons and meisters had died protecting so readily turned against them. It was as if not just Operation Pawn, but all of humanity was waiting for one fatal mistake, just one stumble to justify tearing away at something they didn't understand, something they feared.

For over 600 years, Shibusen had been a perfect enforcement group acting as deterrent and punisher of all those who were evil. For 600 long years there hadn't been war between countries, no riots, no gang wars, no dictators, no need for the general public to own weapons. Without Shibusen, there'd be nothing there to scare those that may choose the path of insanity towards power. With the armament of the general public, those with evil intentions would have the tools needed to prey on the weak and countries would have the servants needed to war with one another again. Even if he were to give up his life in front of the world, Kid doubted it would change their need to fight with one another. Humanity wanted to shed its own blood, but first they'd need to destroy those that held back the knife. So be it.

Kid's own sacrifices had turned to dust. The decades spent learning cultures and languages and petty dances to blend in and gain the trust of the humans he'd have to interact with was all a waste. A childhood spent in isolation and study had amounted to nothing. The effort that Liz and Patty had put forth as weapons was betrayed as well, just as every effort put forth by any weapon who had dared fight the evils of man.

Nothing mattered anymore. The world, order and peace truly were coming to an end. Kid walked from the window as the crowd below dispersed and the citizens of Death City went home to say their goodbyes. There was no hope for any of them now.

It was dark in Patty's holding room. Four days had passed since they had returned and she had been lost in a fog of emotion driven insanity. But the rush of anger and hatred and bloodlust faded in isolation, leaving her to open her eyes and find darkness and silence to welcome her.

"Hello?" She called out, sitting up on her bed. Where was Kid? Where was Liz? What was going on? She got up and fumbled around only to find the door locked. "Let me out!"

"Miss Thompson?" The appointed guard called through the door.

"Hey, open the door! I need to see if they're ok!"

"I can't do that until Dr. Stein returns from the demonstration and makes sure you're safe to let out."

"What do you mean? Of course I'm safe!"

"You've been violently insane for the past four days since you returned from Russia." Patty blinked at that. Insane? She was a little weird, she'd give him that, but she wasn't insane!

"Why would I be insane? Did Kid lock me in here as a joke cuz it's really not funny."

"You don't remember? Your sister was killed and then you and the Shinigami heir went on to massacre hundreds of people."

Patty's eyes widened in the darkness as the images rushed back from her memory and her hand quickly came up to cover her mouth to keep the scream on the inside from coming out. Not just the image of Liz and the bullets that entered her chest and stomach, but also the factory. The fear on those people's faces, their screams.

She stumbled backwards, ending up on her butt on the cold stone floor and the guard sighed as the sound of her weeping came through the door. It might be a long while before Stein would come, so the guard left to find Kid instead. He has been warned that there was a small possibility that if she wasn't right that it might pull him back, but the world was going to hell now anyways. What harm could it do? In moments, the door opened and in its light sat Patty on the floor, her knees held to her chest. She lifted her head, showing her large tear filled blue eyes before standing and rushing to Kid in the doorway.

"Please tell me this is some bad dream." She sobbed, holding him to her chest. "Sis isn't really gone is she?"

Kid raised shaking hands and wrapped them around her. "Patty…why?" He looked up at her. "Why did you have to wake up now? If you were insane for just a little while longer they would have over looked you."

It seemed that fate was cruel like that. To have, then lose, regain and then lose again. If this was what forever would be like, then perhaps he just wasn't meant to be a god after all. Kid slowly let go of her and used a handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

"What happened, all of it, is entirely my fault, understand? It was my carelessness and my own lack of control that caused all of this."

"But-"

"No. No buts. Now, let's get some rest. Let's go home." There were underground passages that lead back to the mansion from the school that were useful in times like these. Who knew what would happen if he walked or even flew out in public and now that he had Patty, Kid dared not risk it.

"It wasn't all your fault." Patty finally spoke as they walked down the dark corridor. "Sis would have…" She had to swallow the growing lump. "She'd have done what she did happily. She loved you a lot. And you loved her because of how you reacted."

"It was a reaction to ruined symmetry." He replied quietly, not daring to look her way. "That's all."

"Even now you're lyin' to yourself. If you only saw us as that, you'd never have come to get me from that cell. 'Go let that single gun go. Give her money or whatever, and tell her thanks for the good service and sorry for the inconvenience.'" She mimicked as best as she could muster, all things considered. "I was in resonance with you, I know what you were feeling. Outta everyone in the whole planet no one knows more than me what you went through." Kid paused at that and looked at her, the hall only illuminated by dim wall lamps.

"No one is here," Patty continued, arms open. "It's ok if you wanna bawl. Patty's here. I promised Liz a while ago that I'd take care of you if anything ever happened, and I always keep my promises!" Kid may have been the one who pulled the girls from the streets, but in the end it was always them who took care of him. Here, in the safety of the subterranean tunnel he wrapped his arms around Patty and wept. He was so useless, a complete and utter failure. He was not so much a god at this moment as he was a boy, lost and alone. For now, the world could wait. He wanted to hold onto the last of this support.

* * *

Tomorrow everything would end.

* * *

There was the long creak of the apartment door, the way the floor groaned a bit once someone stepped past the threshold. There was a wave of sticky, hot, moist air, but it was still theirs. It was dark and silent inside and no words were breathed between the two of them, because what was there to say? I'll go pack my things? Good bye? Thanks for everything? Maka stepped through the doorway, but Soul lingered, running his hand over the wood of the door frame. Optimism aside, there was no knowing for sure how things would go, if there would ever be a time when he'd stand in this doorway again. The walls were coated in their posters, their pictures, their memories and promises and from this place he tried to memorize it all. The way it looked, the way it smelled, the way it felt. This was the only home he had come to love. The only home he'd ever claim.

"Please don't just stand there." Maka said before walking into their small kitchen. Her voice was numb from everything and it pained him to hear it. "Are you hungry?"

Soul began to walk in slowly, but when there was a loud crash of glass on the floor he rushed to the kitchen. Two jars of spaghetti sauce had tumbled out of the cupboard when she was looking for something to make and now it was all over the floor. She knelt to her knees to pick up the glass but couldn't stop the tears from coming. There was glass and food and she was hungry and exhausted and sore from the fight and it was hot because the AC had died and her Papa was gone and everything was falling apart and there was nothing she could do to stop it, just like how the jars had fallen just a little too fast to catch. Soul knelt next to her and the moment he touched her shoulder she turned and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her head. "Don't worry about cooking. Everything's going to be ok."

"How can you say that?" Maka said angrily, but quickly relented back into sadness. "You don't know that. We did everything right, why is this happening? Everything was starting to get better…"

Soul couldn't respond, he didn't have the answers but he did have a promise. "When all this mess is over, I'll come back and find you." He gave her a gentle squeeze before parting just enough to look her in the face, resting his forehead against hers. "I promise. I'll always be looking for a way to get back here to you."

Maka pushed forward with enough force to send Soul backwards onto the floor, but he hardly noticed the impact with the linoleum with Maka's lips pressed against his. After the initial second of shock, he returned it, his hand reaching up to touch her cheek and hair. It might have been the horrible turn of events, it might have been the heat or the exhaustion, but this was too nice to question. Maka broke the kiss, looking down at him.

"I…I'm so-" She had begun but was cut off when he leaned up to initiate the kiss this time. It was brief because of their positioning, but sent the message all the same.

"No need to apologize." He smiled up at her, wiping the moisture from her cheeks. "I have an idea. Why don't I make popcorn and we watch a movie? It'll be like a lame date at home."

"That sounds great." Maka gave a sheepish grin before getting off of Soul and helping him up. For just a little bit, it would be ok to forget about everything, right? They could make these last few memories. Maka went to pick the movie and set up the fans in the living room while Soul cleaned up the spaghetti mess and made two bags of popcorn, dumping them into the biggest bowl they had.

"Finding Nemo? Really?" Soul laughed when he walked into the living room, bowl in one hand and two sodas in the other.

"I need something kinda light hearted." She managed a small smile for him and Soul took his seat next to her.

Once he put the bowl and sodas on the coffee table, he put an arm around her shoulders. "Is this ok?"

"It's perfect."

* * *

Black Star paced his own living room. There had to be a way around this. He refused to consider the possibility that they wouldn't want Tsubaki. That was impossible. She was the best, the most special weapon out there! He was sure that secret government agents would be trying to take her tonight while he slept. But he was also worried for Soul, his best bud. There had to be a way to get them both outta here and to safety. There had to be some place somewhere where the sticky fingers of the man wouldn't be able to reach them. None of any of this even made any kind of sense! All this going on about diplomacy and talks and regulations made his head hurt. If it came down to it, he was going to fight to keep Tsubaki, no matter what. Just let those punks try to take her! She was the very best weapon out there, the only one worthy enough for him! Of course they'd want her! She wasn't broken! She wasn't!

"I'll kill anyone who even tries!" He shouted at the closed door. "I know you're there, waiting for me to go to sleep, well guess what! I can go DAYS without rest! You can't have my Tsubaki, not now not ever, I don't care what our coward leader says!"

All of this was over the mess in Russia right? Well then where the hell was Kid? If he would just turn himself in then everyone would be happy right? But no! That coward-god was hiding his son, trading in all of the weapons of the world instead! Well then, it'd be up to Black Star to set things right. All he'd have to do was capture Kid and hand him over and they'd call everything off! It was perfect and well, since Kid had no weapons it'd be twice as easy.

His enthusiasm faded at that as he thought about Liz and Patty. They were good people. If anything had happened to Tsubaki like that, he'd have probably done the same thing as Kid. No he would have done a lot worse. They'd have to kill him because there wouldn't be any coming back from the level of crazy he'd hit if they killed her in front of him. And it wasn't even like Kid could die, so there'd never be any kinda relief from the guilt. Even if Kid was turned over, it wasn't like the humans really would stop… and even if Shinigami-sama was a huge black and white chicken, he couldn't imagine having to choose between your organization you spent your whole long immortal life building, the people you're supposed to be protecting and your only son. With a heavy sigh, Star sat on the couch next to Tsubaki.

"How am I supposed to know who to be mad at?" He asked her, but of course she only stared at him. "Well don't worry. I'm still gunna protect you. Not like any of their jails could ever hold me. I'm gunna stay up all tonight and all tomorrow to make sure no one lays a hand on you."

* * *

It was quiet in Soul's bedroom. After the movie, they said their goodnights and went to their own beds. He had packed his one bag and set it aside. But, despite the situation, he couldn't help grinning up at the ceiling. They had kissed. They even had a movie-date on the couch. Somehow he just couldn't bring himself to be sad. In fact, it just added determination. He _would_ find a way back. He _would _see her again, no matter what. This was all just a test, like all the other tests that they always passed. They always made it through, together. Yeah, sure, maybe she didn't actually like him that way and it was just her emotions getting confused and frazzled in the midst of all this chaos, but it made things very clear to him that he felt that way. And even if there was only the tiniest possibility that she might return the notion for real, then it would be worth all the fighting to get back here. No matter what, he'd close the space between.

There was a quiet knock at his door before Maka called through "Are you asleep…?"

"No, come in." His large window provided all the moonlight needed to see as Maka opened the door in a pink tank top and thin pajama shorts.

"I couldn't sleep…" She seemed embarrassed as she looked away and Soul couldn't help but to let his grin widen.

"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" He hadn't thought she'd take him up on the offer, but slowly, Maka walked into his bedroom and sat on the corner of his bed. She still wouldn't look at him directly though, there was a bit of an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

"Don't get any pervy thoughts. Just, with everything going on…"

"Don't worry about it." He fluffed her pillow and moved the sheets out of the way and with a little hesitation she laid back. Carefully, Soul settled down as well, trying to give her as much room as the small bed would allow. "Comfy?"

He wasn't, with his back jammed against the window sill. Maka must have noticed because she tugged on his shirt until he was closer and rested her head and arm on his chest. "Now I'm comfy."

Soul rested a hand on her head and Maka listened to the sound of his heart racing. And for a while that's all there was. The warmth shared between them, the softness of her hair, the beating of his heart.

"I don't want you to go." Maka finally whispered.

"I won't be far, you've got me with you all the time."

She turned her head to look up at him with an undignified pout. "Don't say corny stuff like that at a time like this. I'm serious."

"So am I." He smiled softly, running a hand through her hair. "I might have to go, but I'm all over this place. You won't really be alone."

"But your stuff and your writing and your posters and all your things don't make up you." She rested her cheek back on his chest. "I wish we had just gone on that mission to Baltimore and taken that weekend on the beach like you had suggested."

"Then we wouldn't be this close. The stuff we go through just makes us better."

"What's the point of being better if we're not together?"

He couldn't help it, the question came out of his mouth as soon as he had thought it. "Together how? As partners, roommates or…?"

Maka squeezed him, curling up a bit more around him. "Please don't ask questions like that when you're disappearing tomorrow."

"Okay, okay." And then the sound of muffled sobs from her broke the quiet and Soul continued to stroke her hair. It was then that he decided to hum softly, the same melody he had been playing when they had first met, but in a softer key.

Maybe it had been insane to think there could be this kind of happiness and warmth, Maka thought as she tried to control her emotions. She had taken too long to forgive her father. She had taken too long to trust Soul like this and now everything was too late. For a moment, she wondered if it would have been better to have just stayed in her own bed, if she should have kissed him like that. It was stupid to move so close so quickly when he'd have to leave.

But if this was it. If this was the last night, the last chance she could have to listen to his heart beat and feel the comfort of his arms, then surely the pain would be worth it. There was a real danger here of never seeing him again since she'd have to trust the government's 'careful records' and hope that Stein and the others could work with world leaders in establishing some sort of agreement. She could get a job as a government official and maybe, just maybe have him issued to her. It would be like the same job, but with new rules and bosses and new sorts of missions. It was also a ridiculous hope. The chances of that actually happening were so tiny. This was it. It had to be it. Over the pain of her breaking heart, his hummed lullaby soothed, allowing sleepiness to cover over the panic. For a moment, Soul was hers and hers alone and this was all she needed. This was home.

Eventually, Maka calmed and then fell asleep. Soul stared up at the ceiling, wishing to stay up just a little longer. He wanted to stay like this for just…just a little longer.

The next day, Soul would wake by himself and rub his eyes and wonder if the night before had been a dream. It was still hot and muggy in the room and his packed bag still sat against the wall. Out in the hallway, he could smell breakfast. Maka made all of his favorites: strawberry pancakes, bacon, French toast with powdered sugar, the works.

"Hey, I thought you'd never get up. Hurry and eat." She put the huge plate at his spot on their small kitchen table. "We're going to go to Vegas before the trucks get here." Soul rubbed his eyes and sat at the table.

"Vegas? Why?"

"Because collection in major cities doesn't start until tomorrow." She filled his glass with milk before making her own plate. "If we can get a little more time in, we might as well go there, right?"

"So you want to get more time in with me? I can't blame you. I _am_ a cool guy after all." He grinned before stuffing his mouth full of bacon.

Instead of retorting his sarcasm, Maka just smiled to herself in agreement as she sat. "Don't get too big headed or you'll end up like Black Star."

"Oh! We should take him too." Soul said. "We should all just cut loose."

"You're joking right? He's got his hands full with Tsubaki, besides…" She looked down at her knife and fork as she cut her French toast. "I was hoping it could just be me and you, to, you know, make up for all those missions when we could have had fun but I forced you to study or come straight home."

Soul smiled to himself, reading whole novels between the lines. "Ok. Just us then." Breakfast had never tasted sweeter.

But the government trucks, which were supposed to come sometime after 3pm, were rolling down the street once the both of them were finished breakfast and had gotten dressed. It was only 10 am. Maka stared in disbelief, her hand holding his. They were too late and the hope of having just a few more hours was ripped away. She tugged him towards the apartment complex's garage.

"We can still get out of here before they notice us. C'mon." Soul tumbled a bit behind her. This was happening, it really was happening, this moment.

But across the street from them screamed a lady they both knew as an acquaintance. A single mother named Catherine Danials and her daughter Amy were surrounded by suited officials. The green dressed, pigtailed brunette little girl was wailing as she clung to her mother.

"You can't take her away from me, you have to take me as well!" She held her child close, the little girl screaming as she held on to her mother as if it were wolves trying to tear her away.

"You're not a weapon, ma'am. You must stay here. If you don't let go of the little girl, we will take her with force."

"Then do it, because I'm not letting her go!"

The official brought his fist back but Soul caught it in his palm. "Hey, there's no need for that. Let me talk to her." He then turned to the woman. "Ms. Danials, right? Hey, I'm Soul from across the street. Maka and I have borrowed sugar from you a few times. What kind of weapon is Amy? Her name's Amy right?"

The woman nodded slowly. "She's a bladed weapon, like her father was."

"Ah, well I'll be leaving with these guys too," He smiled for the woman, trying to calm her. "And if you want, I can look after Amy for you. I'm in sort of the same class so we'll end up in the same place."

Ms. Danials looked across the street where Maka stood, a look of devastation on the young woman's face that matched her own before turning and looking at Soul before gently shifting the sniffling little girl into his arms.

He smiled and bounced the little girl once or twice. "Hey Amy, we're going on a trip together. Say bye to your mommy, give her a goodbye kiss."

"I want mommy to come!" The little girl pouted up at him. "Why can't mommy come?"

"Because this is a secret trip. We're going to be back before you know it but until we get back, I'll make sure you're ok, alright? You see that big school up there?" He shifted her weight to point at the shape of Shibusen in the skyline.

"The one Daddy went to!"

"Yeah. I went there and they taught me all about being a hero. They taught me about right and wrong and protecting the innocent." He glanced at the awaiting officials before looking back at the little girl. "And while we're gone, I can teach you all about being a hero too."

The little girl smiled at that and leaned back towards her mom to give her a big wet kiss on her cheek. Soul looked to the closest official. "I'm going to hand her back to her mother for a moment while I say goodbye to my meister. Give me five minutes." The man nodded and Soul handed Amy back to her mother, the little girl talking a mile a minute now about how she was going to be a hero like Mr. Soul and Daddy.

"We could have gotten out in time." Maka said when he reached her, her head bowed and fists clenched. "We could have been half way to Vegas by now if you hadn't…"

"Maka, Maka, hey." He gently tilted her head up before taking off his yellow and black letterman jacket and put it on her shoulders. "This is the right thing to do. If I have to go with them, then I might as well go being cool, right?"

When Maka still frowned at him with welling eyes he sighed and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. "Those guys in suits and all the media in the world want you to believe it takes a weapon to make a difference, but it doesn't. It takes what you have in here." He poked her forehead. "And here." He poked her chest. "It's what you have in your soul."

Soul gently cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing two soft circles before his eyes locked with hers. "You have more Soul than you know."

She blinked at that, getting the double meaning before she threw her arms around his neck in a hug. "You say the stupidest, corniest, most amazing stuff when you're like this. I dunno if I want you to stop or keep going."

Maka pulled away and Soul leaned in and kissed her, trying to ingrain how this felt into his memory, his hands holding hers. Amy gave a loud long Eeewwww! Which made him laugh and break the kiss.

"Well, Mr. Hero." Maka rubbed at her eyes with one hand. "You…you have a princess to take care of."

"I'll be back soon." He brushed at her bangs and met her watery eyes. "I lov-"

Maka quickly covered his mouth with her hand. "Tell me when you get back." He nodded and pulled his jacket closer around her shoulders.

"I'll be home before you know it. Take care of my bike for me."

"If you don't get back soon enough, I'll pawn it." She forced a smile and with a bit of hesitance let go of him.

"Bye." He took a step backwards.

"Bye, Soul." She swallowed. Soul turned and walked back to their neighbor and took her daughter into his arms and Maka smiled despite the tears in her eyes. He really was a cool, cool guy. Little Amy waved when Soul waved and with one last look back at her, he disappeared with the three year old into the black government truck.

* * *

Black Star had stayed up all night and when the truck rolled up outside his apartment building, he was ready. Tsubaki was sleeping peacefully in the bedroom so when there was a loud knock on his door he opened it with his chest puffed out.

"If you're here for my weapon, you might as well just leave while you have legs to walk on."

The man didn't seem intimidated by the very short aggressor. He just looked down from his clipboard. "Are you Black Star?"

"The GREAT Black Star."

"And your weapon is Tsubaki Nakatsukasa?"

"Yes and you're not coming anywhere near her."

"I'm just verifying your address. Have a nice day." The man turned to leave.

Black Star laughed. "Ah you're scared! It's ok! I'd be scared too if I were faced with me! Sometimes I can't even look in the mirror! You'd have no hope of taking my weapon!"

"According to my records, sir," the man stopped. "She's currently unusable with less than 12% chance of ever becoming useable again. We don't have a need for broken weapons." In his anger, Black Star broke the door knob right off his own door.

"You take that back! Tsubaki is the best weapon out there! No one is like her!"

"If she was well, we'd be very interested in her, but in this case you can keep her. Consider yourself lucky, a lot of your classmates are leaving and you get to keep your partner." Black Star just stood there as the man went and knocked on another door and a woman reluctantly and tearfully had to hand over her teenaged son.

He was lucky? Lucky to have a ghost in place of his dear Tsubaki? Lucky to have a voiceless child where the bright spot of his day used to be? Lucky to be alone with no one to really acknowledge his existence? He'd rather her be ok and fighting every monkey in a suit that the President could throw at him than go back in there and face the fact that her condition was his fault. The truth was she was broken, and yes, while it meant she could stay, she was still gone. Still close but so far away. He turned and slammed the door shut, only for it to bounce open again without a door knob.

He wanted to go check up on Soul, but he couldn't leave Tsubaki here and getting her up and dressed would take too long, so he called. Maybe there was still time and the two of them could come here for a bit before he'd have to go.

"Hey Maka, is Soul-Oh. He didn't even call to say goodbye. I'm gunna have to kick his ass when he comes back. No. She's still here. Yea, I guess I am lucky…yeah. If you wanna come over, you can. If you get lonely or whatever. I've been learning to cook, I'd love to hear a second opinion on how awesome it is. Ok. Oh ok maybe this weekend. Ok. Yeah, I didn't forget about it. Ok bye." As if things couldn't get more fucked up and somber, Liz's funeral was tomorrow and more than half of her friends wouldn't be there for it, physically or mentally. Who even knew if Patty would be there for it? Black Star hung up the phone and sat on the floor. Some god he was. The world was falling apart and all he had was a broken weapon to comfort him. She couldn't even do that much, really. He was all alone.

All through the streets of Death City there was shouting, crying, fighting. On more than one occasion, officials had to storm homes with tear gas or wood batons to retrieve weapons. A few technicians were arrested for harboring. By night, it had never been more silent in Death City. The trucks had swept through and collected all of the weapons. Families were torn apart. People were shoved into vehicles and sent away to a location that was still unknown to the general public. Maka pulled Soul's jacket closer to herself despite the sticky hot air in their…her apartment and walked into Soul's room. Usually there would be music playing now, but it was silent. She laid on his bed, took in his scent he left behind and tried her best to remember the lullaby he had hummed to her the night before.

It was weird, but for a moment she could swear she could feel his hand on her head. He really was everywhere here. It still didn't keep her eyes from watering. God, it felt like she'd never be able to get control of her emotions. She hadn't even cried this much when her parents divorced. If he never came home, maybe she could just stay here, in his bed, wrapped in his favorite jacket, pulling at her mind for the notes he had left behind.

* * *

In Russia, Alexi was watching the news about the confiscation of weapons in his own country. He was hunched over a small TV, maps and reports scattered about on the table.

"Ah congratulations!" One of his teammates patted his back. "It went just as you and your woman had planned."

"Yes, she's pretty happy about it." Alexi nodded, not taking his eyes from the screen. "Finally, Mother Russia has the power to protect herself again."

"I bet you will be celebrating with your woman then?" He nudged him and Alexi scoffed.

"No, I do not think so. She is very…" He paused, trying to find the correct term. "_Venomous_ when I make advances. Once everything is official and Shibusen is gone for good, then maybe I will take my claim."

"It's not like you to let a woman have such control over you, Alexi."

"If it weren't for her, we would not have the intel to complete our mission. For now, she deserves the same respect as the rest of our men."

"Women are snakes like that," His friend laughed. "Eager to whisper away secrets. If we're not careful she might be off to whisper our own secrets to someone."

"My woman would never do something like that." He got up and left the table and entered the small residential wing of their base and knocked twice on the first door. "It is Alexi. I am coming in."

He swung open the door to find the bedroom empty. On the dresser rested a note.

"Dear Alexi,

Thank you for all your help. If it weren't for you, I never would have gotten this far. I will keep this in mind after I've initiated phase two and will show you and your men mercy.

~Medusa"

It was a star lit night over the silent, unarmed Death City. Inside her borders were humans filled with fear and paranoia. In her homes sat anguished meisters with no weapons to call on. At her throne sat a Shinigami with no options and no protection and a son with the world's pain as his burden.

In its sadness and dissolution, the remnants of Shibusen had failed to notice the growing army of witches just miles from the city's walls.

* * *

A/N: For those who haven't noticed yet, I post previews of upcoming chapters on my profile along with the chapter's status and estimated day of publishing. Go check it out. **There's a preview of chapter 10 up RIGHT NOW. **While you're at it, check out the soundtrack. You can get more hints as to what's coming up by listening carefully to the words!


	10. Ruled by Secrecy

**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter 10: Ruled by Secrecy**

The world was clamoring and the rabble reached the heavens. The confiscation of weapons and their placement into camps brought up a flurry of questions that were chirped and chattered in the airwaves, in print, and on the web. Were they people? Were they tools? Did they have rights? Did they get to choose?

But they had forgotten.

They didn't know what _real_ discrimination was. Being gathered and torn from their homes was nothing! Being told that they were _things_ was nothing. How would the world reply if the weapons had been hunted down and killed for what they were? What if from birth they were taught to hide themselves away, to hide their very souls? Their youngest children schooled in how to keep moving, to keep looking over their shoulders for the armies of people who were after them? And when they asked why, could they stand to look their boys and girls in the eyes and speak the truth? That they were monsters, evil, hated and thought by the world to deserve nothing but death? Could they bear to see their children killed? Their souls devoured? Their names placed on a list, a prize for the wining like some hunted animal? It'd be far better to crush that child, stop their breathing and spill their blood than let them live with any fleeting thoughts of a world that would show them any pity.

What would the world say then? What sort of moral questions would be raised?

Does someone hate a bird for flying? Does one convict a fish for swimming? Do the mentally challenged go without mercy, do the sick end up blamed for their illnesses and turned away? No. Yet witches were hated for things they could not control. Their tastes for chaos and destruction came from a sway of magic that was given to them in birth. It was not a choice. Now, there was a choice to follow or fight that sway, but whether one was fighting or following was never a question once they were discovered. Only a few were ever shown any kindness and even then they were used for Shibusen's own benefit; fashioned as tools of death and judgment towards their own kind. There had never been mercy. Oh no, collection camps were kind. Too kind.

Besides, wasn't it a far worse crime to take the children of two races and train them to be killers, an army of little hitmen for a god of death? Wasn't it worse to strip away their innocence and dip their hands in blood, bringing the tastes of souls of any kind to the lips of boys and girls before they even had the taste of their first kiss? Discrimination and hate had always been part of the lesson. And how could the witches be held accountable for the measures they had to take? Whoever fought against the self righteous weapon and techs were considered to be beyond redemption when in some cases it had been self-defense from the start. Having to be afraid of the never ending barrage of Shibusen students only proved to raise the fear and desperation within the witch and warlock race, adding to their hatred for the order that Shibusen fought to uphold. It was a circle of hate, of destruction and fear.

Maba-Sama was old and set in her ways, content in her safe palace behind her powerful council of high-level witches and had little pity for her own kind. As long as the old hag was safe, that was all that mattered. The crimes against witches by Shibusen had gone on for far too long. Medusa was far too tired of worrying about hiding to let it continue and had begun to consider a variety of methods of destroying the organization.

The first step to destroying them was infiltration. It was shamefully easy to get her job as nurse in the beginning. A sweet tone, a slight change of clothes, and a solid soul-protect was all she needed. As faculty, it was even easier to gather information from their massive library. In her research, Medusa had found records of Asura, the first Kishin, and how he had almost succeeded in destroying the God of Death and creating a never ending era of chaos and insanity. To simply release Asura would be a desperate move. There was no way to control him and when there was insanity involved, there were no longer any loyalties. She had no intention of destroying one enemy and creating a new, more powerful one. No, it would be far better if one was made that she could control.

So, her experiments with black blood began, but after the events in Italy, it was clear that there were still limitations to the black blood when faced with soul waves. It would take years of more development and most likely a better test subject to perfect it. Soul was an option, but the boy was too stubborn and had obviously found a way to fight it when the blood hadn't taken over; even more evidence that her experimentation with the substance needed more work. So, Medusa was faced with a host of armed and trained soldiers that had killed countless of her kind in the past and two options laid before her: go ahead and release Asura and find a way to survive in the following chaos, or find a different way. There had to be a weakness and a key to it all.

Insanity was the answer she kept coming back to. It was the opposite of the order Shibusen tried so hard to protect. In its roots, it was simply a desire for power in the lack of reason and rules and was particularly attractive to those that were weak. There were none more weak than the simple humans. Insanity didn't have to be spread through infected and ungodly complicated blood, or a released monster that had to be controlled or avoided. It could be spread in fear through a collective of people. It was simple, so very simple and in the right position, she could control every bit of it. If the humans chose to fight back against her, well. She was a witch after all and witches had the least to fear from the helpless.

As Medusa looked at the shape of the unarmed Death City on the horizon, and more witches arrived and their numbers grew, it was clear that all were helpless before her.

* * *

Stein had fought innumerable battles, he had tackled mountains of papers, invested years in research but this was more than he could handle. In the dissention of Shibusen, it had become his duty to be the moving liaison between Shinigami-sama and the media as well as the god's voice in meetings held with local Nevada officials and the United States Government. His responsibilities had doubled, the stress had more than tripled and in all of it, the man had no time to give his own self any thought. Sleep had been struck from the schedule. Meals were stuffed between meetings, paper work, agreement proposals, reports, and endless press conferences and phone calls.

It had been infinitely easier to face hordes of enemies on the battlefield. At least in combat there was honesty. No underhanded comments, no deceit, no false smiles and forced congeniality. Humans were ruthless with their words and skilled with their bureaucracy. In one movement they'd allow one freedom, but take three away and hold him in a position where he'd have to agree. The growing desire of just strangling the next reporter or monkey in a suit was becoming harder and harder to hold back.

_"Tell me, good doctor, what will you do when there are no more weapons to hide behind? Would you be so cocky?"_

Stein sighed in the rare silence of his temporary home within the Shibusen Dorms. That had been an unfair question, really. It was unlikely that Pavel knew it, but it was Stein's fighting style to use his weapons as defense and his own soul waves as offence. He literally hid behind weapons in battle and depended on himself to do all the actual fighting. Yet, in this battle to hold together the falling pieces of Shibusen and order within the world, it sure would be nice to have a partner. Even an idiot to give his frustrations a new target, a stupid voice to break the silence or the mindless rabble from the chaos.

Or something to get his mind off the dangerous what-ifs that lurked in the corners of his thoughts.

This wasn't what he was meant for, this wasn't the kind of person he was. Stein was solitary and being seeped in the power hungry, two-faced dealings of human politics was bad on his sanity. There had been reasons why he had chosen to leave Shibusen after graduation and stay in his labs. People were hard to deal with because of their effects on him. Solitude was a constant, a control in all his experiments he could count on. He had sworn that it would be a comfortable place to reside for the rest of his days.

But those kids… the impression they had made on him, how they reminded him of what it was like to be part of a team, to be more than himself. Stein had felt their connections, he had witnessed their budding strengths then and it was enough to spark his curiosity and draw him back to the chaotic, loud, unpredictable atmosphere of the school he had left behind him. Now there were ruins left in the wake and those kids he had encountered were gone, replaced with boys and girls thrown into the hardships of adult hood, left as alone and broken as he was. It wasn't right. This paper work and media dance wasn't right. Their suffering wasn't right. No one deserved the same sort of jadedness he had earned. No one deserved that sort of heaviness, not when their young lives were just beginning.

At least, if they had gone into battle, there would be honesty and a constructive outlet for all of this emotion. Doing nothing and pretending to be sure or happy in any of it…it was driving him insane.

* * *

It echoed in the quiet, each step down the hall of the mansion resounding sharply as Kid walked. This was the place they had lived. This was where laughter had covered the silence of a stolen childhood. This is where immortality found purpose in the petals of roses and the breaths of wilting mortals. As he walked past _her_ empty room, he paused to touch the unmoved wood. The beginning of the end had happened in her last breaths. It was only fitting that they buried her on the day after the death of Shibusen.

Patty followed a short distance behind him, every ounce of her will spent in keeping her smile on her lips. This was the last time she'd get to walk here. Her home, the only one she had known, where the cold of the world and the pain of her sister had turned into happiness. Her one bag was large and slung on her shoulder, filled with memories and brightly colored things, and her heart overflowed with feelings she kept away. For now, Kid was still in her charge and he needed brightness in this dark time. Patty had lost as much as him, if not more. She had seen it ripped away and now he too was being torn from her. But if Liz had taught her anything it was that when there was someone you wanted to protect, you did what it took. Cowgirl up. All the way.

Someday Kid would be in charge and she was sure that he'd set things right. It was a pleasure to know him now as a boy, and in her own way influence the way he'd change the world in the future. Gently, she put a hand on his shoulder. They were going to say a final goodbye to her sister and after that would say goodbye to one another before she'd be sent off to join the others of her kind.

Hook cemetery had a new wound in its earth with a long beautiful white casket resting beside the edge. There were no chairs, no real accommodations. If things had been different, this would be a proper occasion with flowers, music, a wake. But with the end in sight, it was simply a deposit of a grossly understated asset. It would only have been more appropriate if it were raining, but the desert sky could only lend so much sorrow.

"Do you think it'll rain?" Patty asked, looking upwards as they approached the casket, hand shielding her eyes.

"No, Patty. I don't think we'd be quite so lucky."

"Is this spot going to be mine?" She stood on the empty lot next to the casket. Kid didn't answer, choosing to slide his hand over the ivory glossed curve of Liz's resting place. This wasn't right, she deserved something so much more grand for the things she had done for him and thusly for the world. With her she'd take the peace they had known, the brightness they had shared, the laughter and noise he had grown to love. Grown to depend so greatly upon.

Maka was the first to show up, in a formal black dress. It was strange to see her by herself, or dressed in such a way that it took a moment for it to register on his sluggish mind. The mourning expression on Maka's face wasn't entirely for Liz. He knew that. And while he knew that they could share in the common grief for the loss of their weapons, he still didn't quite know the way to express that in words. It was hard to tell if their pain could really be compared since no matter what happened, Liz could never return home.

"Kid, I'm so sorry." The polite meister offered but he said nothing in return. What could he say? What would be proper when he had so much to apologize to her for as well?

Maka looked at the closed casket. The entire thing felt surreal because with as many times she, Soul and everyone had brushed with death they had managed to escape. But it was real, very real, and laid in white and rose gold and cool brown earth in front of her. It was a possibility, an end that could have happened, might, and would eventually happen. Liz had been a good friend. It felt more like she was on a trip somewhere, vacationing in some nice place and that this…_thing_ before her wasn't really what it was. She'd come back with souvenirs and make up samples and force Maka to try out the new perfumes she'd bought wherever it was been she'd gone. It was a silly notion, but she hadn't seen Liz since the day Stein had given his lecture on Operation Pawn. Without a wake, it was hard to come to the realization that she was gone and, given the circumstances, perhaps a little bit of wishful thinking wouldn't hurt.

Black Star showed up not long after, alone as well, looking three times as exhausted as anyone present. Before any of them could ask he simply stated "She wouldn't get up. I don't want to talk about it." And no one pushed the subject further.

It wasn't that he wanted to be here. Black Star didn't know anything about this, none of them truly knew about this. They had killed dozens of bad guys but death like this. It was wrong and there wasn't a way to make it ok, so why talk about it? Why stand here and look at it, as if expecting something to happen? Every day was getting harder, why add this to it? He wanted to leave, but knew there was nothing to go home to. Tsubaki had laid there that morning, almost as still as whoever was in that casket. Cuz it wasn't Liz. None of them died, none of his friends. It just didn't happen and wasn't real and even if it was this whole thing was pointless. God, but Tsubaki had just _laid there_. Unreachable and lost in whatever dream she was having.

"Hey, you guys." Patty broke the silence. "Don't be so sad. Years ago, we both were sure that no one would care if we died, so this is a great turn out!" She wasn't quite as bubbly or loud, but it was still almost painful to see her so bright.

"I'm sure Soul and Tsubaki would be here if they could, and Shinigami-Sama and Stein and Sid and everyone, if the world wasn't so dreary. I remember when Sis was younger, she'd play pretend with me and I would be a princess and she'd be a prince. She'd say 'Stop crying now, Princess Patty. I've come to make it alright!' She'd still use that corny line up until I was like ten. Then she got to be a princess for a little while." She smiled at Kid.

"I don't think she'd change a bit of it, so no pouty faces, ok? And where ever Soul is, I'm sure he's ok, they wouldn't hurt weapons they wanna use, right? And Tsubaki is sure to wake up. I bet she's just super tired from working so hard on getting better. No one could take better care of her than you, Black Star, so everyone just stop looking so sad." Patty's voice broke. She looked from them for a moment to the beautiful white casket and regretted it immediately when tears welled in her eyes.

"Things are tough, but you guys still have each other. I mean, I have to go soon too, even though I don't want too. This is my home. I'm-I'm losing everything. Kid, you still have your dad, and Maka, you still have your mom, and Black Star, Tsubaki's still alive. My only family is _laying_ there." She pointed with a shaking hand. "I made promises to Sis that I can't keep if I'm away but you three have each other. You get to stay in your homes and be close to all the things that remind you of them! You are my only friends in the whole world, please stop looking so sad! Just stop." She rubbed at her eyes. "Stop acting like you're the saddest loneliest people out there!"

Kid moved first, Maka second and a tired Black Star third, all six arms wrapping around the crying girl. Patty, a lot like her sister, tried to take care of those she cared about but she did so through happy smiles and bad jokes and silly voices and faces. Right now though, it was Patty who needed that the most. In their private troubles, the three meisters had forgotten that they all shared a common sadness. They weren't alone in what they were facing, unlike their weapons who were separated and sent into the unknown. Kid, Black Star and Maka took turns trying their best to cheer Patty up with funny stories they could recall of Liz and by the end of it all, they had managed to find some sort of support in each other's pain and strength.

Black Star and Maka left and Kid could hear her offering to come over and help out or hang out and Kid felt a small pang of jealousy. After this, after his goodbyes, there would only be isolation and damage control to keep him company. It was highly unlikely his father would allow him to speak to mortals or make acquaintances in light of how things had turned out. It was likely that the disappearing backs of Maka and Black Star were the last he'd see of them for years if not decades. It was probably for the best, for them.

"Hang in there, ok?" Patty took his hand. "I'm super glad to have had the chance to be your weapon and meet you, Kid. You're a great person who's gunna do great things someday."

He looked at her and she smiled, just like how she always smiled. "We both really believe in the world you're gunna make and we're both really glad that two street rats like us could help make it."

Kid pulled her into his arms. This was too soon, he still needed her. He wasn't ready to be returned into silence. "I promise I'll set things right, Patty. I'm so sorry…"

"There's nothing to be sorry about." She patted his back. "Just be strong cuz we're all waiting to see what you're gunna do." And then Patty leaned in and kissed his cheek. "That's from Liz and" she kissed the other. "That's from me. And for symmetry." Before he could form words to reply to that, Patty pulled away from him and pulled her bag back onto her shoulder.

She paused at the cemetery gate and waved back. "Thanks for everything! See you later!" and walked to the van waiting patiently across the street. Like that, every single one of them was gone. Every person Kid had allowed near him by any degree had left him standing there, alone in the cemetery as the gravediggers lowered Liz into the earth and began to cover the hole. It was done. A wonderful chapter in his life was over, the pen falling like the clods of dirt in her grave. There he remained until the gravediggers had finished and left.

* * *

Black Star had stood outside of Tsubaki's room, hand hovering over the door knob. The man that claimed to be a god, who rushed fearlessly into battle, stood frozen in fear at this threshold. Slowly, he rested his forehead against the wooden door. That morning, Black Star had tried for a good half hour to wake Tsubaki. He had yelled, shook her, even picked her up and spun her but it seemed the waking coma he was sure she was recovering from had somehow worsened into a real one. One where she slept. One where all she did was dream and breathe, denying him even her eyes now. And now he feared that past this door wasn't a dreaming weapon but a cool body and a soul to greet him home from a funeral. With a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and opened the door.

Thankfully, Tsubaki laid there in the same position he had left her in two hours ago, her chest rising and falling. He dragged his feet across the floor and grabbed a chair and slid it to her bedside and sat in it backwards to rest his chin on the back. Black Star was starving but there was no telling when he'd get to go shopping again. They didn't have any money and any food left should go to Tsubaki first. He'd make something that wouldn't require a lot of chewing for her later. He let his eyes close and rested his cheek against the hard back of the chair before falling asleep next to her bedside.

* * *

On the second day that Soul had been taken from her, Maka had received a letter from her mother asking her to come home. It was a tempting offer to get a break from this place that reminded her of Soul at every corner and in the same moment spoke of how alone she was. The quiet rung in her ears and seeing her mother would be great. But. If Maka left and Soul kept his promise, how would he know where to find her? She couldn't leave. She was waiting, like Black Star, for things to return to normal. Any day now, Soul would walk through the door. Just like any day Tsubaki would wake up, smile and say his name again.

Just like that, all of their problems would be gone because Shinigami-sama had said to wait.

* * *

On the morning of the fourth day after Liz's funeral, Black Star woke and did his morning routine. After going to the bathroom, he'd step into the bedroom where she lay and would take a moment to look at her, taking note of the changes. Today, her lips had lost their soft pink color. If it weren't for the slow and shallow rise and fall of her chest…

"Hey, Tsubaki." He sat at the edge of her bed and smiled down at her as if she could see. "You should get up today because today…" He didn't really have a reason. In all seriousness he wasn't sure _he'd_ wake if she wasn't around for him to care for at this point. Swallowing, he pushed hair from her forehead.

"You should wake because I…" His hand paused on her cheek. She was cooler than normal. For a moment Black Star panicked and felt for a pulse, happy to still find one. But it was clear what was happening. She was running out of time.

Hadn't Stein said there was a chance? Didn't he say there was a small hope? Hadn't Black Star done everything right? He had tried so hard, so very hard to help her. He had patiently waited by her side. Fed, cleaned, cared for her despite his pain and loneliness. Didn't they deserve happiness? Wouldn't it have been better if Stein had never lied to him? Black Star stood and walked to the door, feeling his chest tighten. Stein had lied. There hadn't been a chance because if there had been, she'd be awake for sure.

Where tiredness, silence, loneliness and strange indecision had been, anger now filled the void in Black Star's apartment. Anger at the lies, anger at the world. There was anger at the silence and anger at the undeserved end of all that had been good in his life.

Most of all, there was anger towards himself for how helpless he had become. How there was nothing he could do to wake Tsubaki, see her pretty eyes or hear her voice. Like there had been nothing he could have done about Liz or the end of Shibusen, or any of it. All his work to be stronger, faster, better had been for what? To end up alone with no purpose? What did any of it matter?

As soon as he stepped into the silent living room, the wall absorbed his anger, his fist cracking the plaster on the wall. Next were the books on the shelf, the text books he had reluctantly studied thrown against the wall. It was for nothing. _Hoping_ for something good was for nothing. _Being_ something good was for nothing. The world didn't care if you were a good guy or a bad guy, it just took and killed without question. _That_ was the truth. His hand grabbed for something else to break, his fingers bringing a picture frame of him and Tsubaki in front of the school into view. For a moment in his rage, Black Star paused to look at the picture in mid swing. Tsubaki was the only good in all of it. The only thing that had made it worth anything at all and even she was fading. His hand squeezed harder as his throat tightened.

With an undignified thud, Black Star sat on the floor in the middle of the mess holding the now cracked frame. She didn't deserve this. His fingers touched her image over the lines in the glass as his eyes welled. Tsubaki was good, she was light in the darkness, pure and wonderful and so undeserving of the pain she had to endure, or the possible end she was heading towards. She was _dying_ and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"You know, there's a way to fix this." The voice made him jump back to his feet and in an instant he had turned to see Medusa leaning against the doorframe of his apartment, dressed in the typical black dress she wore under her lab coat. He recognized her as the ex nurse from the school, but still his guard went up.

In an instant he had struck an offensive stance, prepared to protect his home and his sleeping, fading, weapon. "Whatever you want, I don't care. Go away."

"I want to help you recover your weapon." Smoothly, Medusa stood upright and crossed her arms, manicured nails resting against them, fingers drumming with a faint hint of amusement on her lips. "Has she fallen into a sleeping coma yet? Because, you know…" Her amused smirk shifted into all seriousness. "That's the last step before death."

Black Star's stance dropped but his angered expression didn't change. With a soft chuckle, she stepped into the apartment and closed the door. He couldn't bring himself to ask her to do it, asking for help or accepting it was always hard for him. Black Star just simply showed her to where Tsubaki was still sleeping. Medusa slinked past him through the doorway to the girl.

"Oh my, we have less time than I had hoped." She looked over her shoulder, her tone her normal sweet mindless nurse voice. "We need to act right away."

"Do what you have to." He looked away, and inwardly Medusa smiled. It had been as she had hoped, just as the Pawn agents had described at the end of Pavel's capture. Her knowledge of Black Star and Tsubaki as a team was limited but it didn't matter. From his tattoo and from having been part of the faculty, she knew of the adopted lost cause, the little pet of Shibusen. The rest was simple to read, the guilt, rage, and sadness clear on the boy's face.

She turned to face him and crossed her arms. "I'm not a school nurse anymore. My services are far from free."

Black Star looked back to her immediately. "We don't have any money, but I'm sure there's gotta be something around here you could take. Take anything you want."

"There is something I want, from you. A service of your skills." The woman moved up to him. "A ninja such as yourself should have no problem with this small errand."

For some reason, all of the moisture in his mouth had disappeared and Black Star took a small step back. Not that he was intimidated, more that he needed the room to attack if she tried anything funny. This lady had no problem invading his personal space.

He didn't want to let on that she freaked him out a little so he crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. "It depends on what it is."

"No it doesn't." Medusa chuckled, a grin sliding eerily across her lips. "Either you do this favor for me or she dies, it's a very easy situation to comprehend. I guarantee you that I am the only person who can turn her condition around."

Black Star opened his mouth to disagree but she slid behind him and covered his mouth with one hand and the other touched his collarbone. "The Shinigami heir wears a broach at his neck. I need you to get it and bring it back to me. If you do that, I will happily save your weapon."

She removed her hands and Black Star turned. "What the hell is wrong with you, lady? First off, you just walk up in here and then you ask me to do favors for you? Besides, what's the big deal about some stupid gaudy pin?"

"Are you saying you're not interested? Because if you're not, I have other places I need to be." She looked at her nails with a bored expression before making eye contact with Black Star. "I'm sure you'll want to be alone for the last five or six hours you have with her anyway." That said, she simply shrugged and turned for the door.

"They said there was no way to fix her." Black Star's tone was much more serious and Medusa paused in her steps, hand on the doorknob. "If you know how to do it, then you have to have some sorta connection with the whole Pawn thing, right?" There was a darkness in his tone. It was what she had hoped to provoke.

"That's right." She didn't deny it, Medusa only smirked as she turned to face him again. "But that fact doesn't change anything. You have six hours at the most before she stops breathing." His eyes instantly fell at that and Medusa took that opportunity to rush smoothly up to him and turn the boy around, hands on his shoulders as she forced him to look at Tsubaki. Medusa leaned her cheek near his.

"Look at her." Tsubaki was breathing so slowly, her skin pale like snow, her hair thin and without shine, her lips the same color as her white cheeks. "She's your partner isn't she? You'd do anything for her, wouldn't you? With every breath her body's connection to her soul weakens. With every exhale she's dying. Your death god could have saved her. It would have been nothing for him to restore the connection but instead he told you to go home and watch her die. Wouldn't it have been kinder for him to have killed her than to have you watch her slowly decay like this?"

She straightened, but kept her hands on his shoulders. "Do you know that your god surrendered all the weapons in the world to keep them from taking his son? How selfish. The figure head of the organization that's always taught you that it was better to protect the innocent willingly, threw away millions of his own people for that spoiled brat. Was that the Shibusen you fought for? Was that the Shibusen you were ready to die for? The same that sent you here with a corpse to care for and no options? That told you to stay, sit, obey even as everything you love and know disappears?"

"Why do you need that stupid pin?" Black Star swallowed. Her words, all of them were true and that harsh reality was numbing everything inside of him. Everything he had thought he was, everything he thought he knew was wrong and even though she was obviously the devil, Black Star simply saw no other option. He'd sell his soul for Tsubaki, hands down, no question.

"Even if I told you it was key to destroying your death god, would you care?" The smile on her face and in her tone curved in such a way that it was clear that she hid nothing in that statement. "Would you tell me that it's evil? The world is ending. There's no longer any evil or good. What you're about to see out there is race killing race for the right to survive. I'm giving you the chance to do something about what's happening to you, a chance to save her. If you want her to survive, it's very simple." With silent grace, medusa slipped to his side and held out her hand. "Do we have a deal? You don't have much time."

Black Star glanced back at Tsubaki. Her breathing had become more and more shallow, her eyes didn't even flutter under her lids like she was dreaming any more. He couldn't sit there any longer. "_No one could take better care of her than you, Black Star."_ He couldn't, _wouldn't_ let her end up like Liz. With a new determined expression and a nod Black Star put his hand in Medusa's and gave a firm shake.

"You've got a deal."

* * *

"Father, I demand that I get to do at least this much." Kid sighed. "Please. I wish to do something to show my remorse for what has happened." In the mirror in his bedroom the image of his father shook his head.

"No matter what you do at this point nothing will convince the humans. They've made their choices and we've made ours. It will take time before they're ready to really listen."

"But surrendering our friends won't be enough to show willingness if I don't make an appearance, Father. I know going and making an appearance during the memorial for those that I…" He bowed his head for a moment before taking a deep breath and again lifting it in forced dignity "That were mistakenly harmed, may be dangerous, but if it means speeding up the armament regulations and peace agreements, then I'm willing to take that risk."

"No way. You're to stay here and let us take care of it." His father waved his hand.

"As future heir, and perpetrator, I feel it's my duty to-"

"I said no, out of the question, no way, not going to happen and that's the end of it. Right now, what's important is keeping you safe and with the way things are, you staying home is the only option. Think of it as being grounded."

Kid frowned at that. "Honorable Father, I cannot sit here and do nothing while my friends and our people suffer because of my mistakes. I will not! It has never been my wish to disobey you, but I don't think I can follow your orders. I must go. I feel it dishonors Liz's memory hiding here when there are things I could be doing to make things right."

Shinigami-sama took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders back. It was time to be stern. "Considering how you couldn't handle eight armed men when you had two guns, I don't think you can handle thousands while unarmed." Kid looked away at that, the pain from that statement as clear as if his father had struck him. "Martyring yourself wouldn't do anyone any good, Kiddo. I know you feel bad about what happened, but the truth is with how Pawn was set up, it was gonna happen to someone sometime. It just happened to happen to us is all."

"You mean to you." Kid frowned up at his father, gold eyes narrowed. "You haven't considered my feelings or suggestions in any of this, and what I do, even if I'm not the one in charge, will reflect on me forever. I get that I've failed you and you've lost your faith in me to protect myself or others, but I have to consider the long lasting repercussions and do what is right with my soul." Kid placed a hand on his chest, fingertips brushing the ends of his ivory broach and again his father shook his head.

"I'm proud of how you're approaching this, but my decision stays the same. If you leave, I'll be extremely disappointed in you and will have to send out others to bring you back. If that happens it will only slow down the regulation drafts and you'll just be making things worse. Read a book, hang out, let your father handle this." He held up two thumbs up

"I refuse!" Kid's sudden outburst surprised the Shinigami and he lowered his hands. "I know I am far from finished in my development, but I demand you stop treating me as a child and let me make some decisions! How am I to be of any use as a Shinigami in the future if I cannot make my own choices?"

"Make a good choice and listen to your father. I'll check in on you later, Kiddo." He waved once and the reflection disappeared, leaving Kid glaring at his own image. No matter how frustrated he was at his father, Kid knew that truly he only had himself to blame.

* * *

Maka had wondered why she was sitting on the fourth day. This was the couch where Soul had sat next to her with his arm around her shoulders. This was the spot they had spent the most time together within the apartment. Why sit? Soul certainly wouldn't sit. He'd pace until the floor was thin as paper before rushing out without a plan. Shinigami-sama had said that this was the best way. That they had to obey the human's rules for now to prove they wanted things to work, yet. If it had been witches that had done this, they would be moving, stirring with plans and action, not locked away in sadness. This wasn't what she had been taught. Maka was trained for action and sitting was…it was wrong. What were they doing? How could her leaders possibly say this was the right course of action?

Soul would go. He'd hitch-hike, walk, run, and fight until he found her again. If she did, it would go against her orders. If Maka left and found the holding camp and reclaimed him, would she be punished? Would she ruin all the hard work to repair the human-Shibusen relationships? She clutched the hem of her skirt in frustration. Since she was a small child Maka had worked so very hard to be an excellent meister and a meister listened to orders. Maka Albarn, the girl, the person, wanted nothing more than to bring Soul home. If finding Soul meant giving up her position as a meister, would she do it? If she wasn't a meister, then who was she? What would she have to strive for then?

Right now there _weren't_ any meisters. Right now, there _was_ no Shibusen. Right now, their god was fighting the battle on his own. They were all on their own. Maka stood and walked to her room to pack her things. It was time to go without a plan, without all of the answers. It was time for her to return all of the favors, acts of kindness and bravery he had ever shown her. Soul was right. It wasn't weapons that changed the world, it was what someone had in their soul and it was time to get her Soul back.

But a sudden cell phone call changed her plans…

* * *

After his discussion with his father, Kid wandered the silent halls of the mansion alone to clear his thoughts. The servants had been allowed to go home, some of them had even been confiscated. Only he moved inside the large building, only his breaths stirred the air. His hand touched the smooth, cool doorknob on the double doors to the mansion's private library and inside waited thousands of books he had already read. The windows in this room were tall, from ceiling to floor and there were floors of shelves. It had been a gilded and gaudy cage during his childhood, but now it was a familiar place. The only part of the mansion that was unchanged by the disappearances and held no ghosts but those of his younger self. Here, there was some consistency. Here was the last bit of certainty he knew. Words that were printed that would never change, a quiet place that remained his alone.

Without much thought to which exactly, Kid gathered some texts and sat at a long table by the towering windows. His eyes scanned over the words, but he wasn't truly paying attention. If the young Shinigami had known what had lain ahead of them, what might he have done when he had heard Liz and Patty talking about her feelings? What might he have said on the plane? How might he have reacted in the van when their lips had met? What would he give to get a moment of it back? He could use a joke, a funny face, an origami animal right now. Kid wouldn't mind Maka's complaining or Soul's crude humor. He'd even tolerate Black Star's—A sudden crash snapped Kid's head around as Black Star walked across the broken glass of the window he had just jumped through. Instead of proclaiming his greatness, Black Star just straightened, his head lowered, fists clinched at his sides. Kid quickly stood.

"Black Star?" At Kid's words, the last remaining member of the Star Clan raised his head and Kid felt his body instinctually move into a defensive stance. Something was very wrong with his eyes. "Is everything alright?"

Black Star scowled at that. "How dare you ask something like that? No, nothing's alright. Now give me your pin!" He extended his hand and Kid's eyes looked from his friend's palm to his face, searching for any sign that this was some joke. Sadly, there was just determination on Black Star's face. There was clear rage and desperation in his eyes.

"No." Kid finally replied with a small shake of his head. "I can't do that. I don't understand why you would need it."

No of course he wouldn't just hand it over. Of course he wouldn't just trust him. Black Star felt his anger growing, his restraint waning. Black Star lowered his hand at that and gritted his teeth.

"Look! I need to exchange it so that some lady will save Tsubaki. I don't wanna hurt you. We were friends, so just hand it over!"

The past tense in his words sent Kid's mind into a flurry of strategic possibilities. The chance of this becoming physical was almost a certainty and with this being an indoor fight there were limits to his mobility. Now, not just anyone would want, care, or know about his broach. It was clear this wasn't just _any_ lady. "You weren't talking to witches, were you?"

"I didn't stop to ask, and really, I don't care." Black Star stepped forward. "She's gonna save Tsubaki and that's all that matters."

"You know better than to trust a witch, Black Star. They're the least honest-"

"Don't talk to me about honesty!" He shouted over Kid. "Don't tell me she's using me when you and your dad have been usin' all of us from the start! You didn't care about any of us! You just hid up here in your palace as your dad just gave everyone over and let the world go to hell! If I have to choose between you, or this place, or Tsubaki, you better guess I'll choose her! Even now you're choosing that ugly gaudy thing over her life!" From behind, Black Star pulled out a long kitchen knife. It was a poor pathetic replacement for his true weapon, but it'd have to do. He checked the reflection as if to hope to see her, but was only greeted with his own image. That's right. It was just him. Slowly, his eyes met Kid's again and a crooked grin spread over his lips.

"I always told you that I'd surpass the gods."

Insanity was the quest for power in the absence of reason, sought after by those who are weak or feel helpless. In that moment, it was clear to Kid that Black Star was, in fact, quite insane. He'd have to return reason to him either by speaking to him, or by force and restraint. Before Kid could say anything to try to reach his opponent's reasoning, Black Star rushed forward, blade glinting, his eyes focused on Kid's neck.

Kid backed up quickly, his feet finding the stairs to the second floor of books and rushed up a few steps backwards before somersaulting over Black Star. "Please consider what you're doing, Black Star. If I give you this broach it will put everyone in grave danger."

Black Star, however didn't seem to hear, or care, as he rushed back at Kid. His speed had increased from their previous fights and his movements were three times as unpredictable. Kid was able to keep a distance without too much trouble, but finding the spots to counter attack was becoming harder and harder. It was clear with every swipe of the blade, every kick or punch that Black Star truly was fighting for Tsubaki's life. Kid could have been more aggressive, but even with Black Star's accusations, he simply couldn't bring himself to truly harm his friend; he had harmed far too many people. The current strategy was to let Black Star tire himself out and find a chance to restrain him.

Kid had never assumed that the emotional toll of the past few days' events would have registered on him physically. He had let Black Star get a little too close and the ninja was finally able to send a soul wave through him, sending Kid flying, landing in the glass strewn floor in front of the broken window that Black Star had entered through. This was Black Star's chance, Tsubaki's only hope. He wouldn't let it pass by! Recklessly, desperately Black Star rushed Kid, blade out, hand out, the slick white goal in sight.

In a moment it had gone from two people who had been friends, to two opponents on the floor. Hands that had shaken one another were now both coated in blood.

"I-I told you I'd get it." Black Star smiled, gripping the broach in his hand, torn and bloody fabric still stuck to the back pin. His knife had cut it from Kid's neck, splitting the pale flesh in the same motion. In Kid's hand was the large shard of glass he had picked up from the floor, the end buried in Black Star's side. Slowly, Black Star tried to stand before finally noticing that it was there and that Kid was still gripping it tightly, holding him in his spot.

"She was right." He wiped blood from his lip as he looked down at Kid. "You never gave a damn about any of us. You deserve everything you have coming to you." But Black Star's grin faded as he watched the bleeding wound across Kid's throat close, the blood stop, the young god sit up. "No! That's not fair!"

"It's not. And I do care. That's why I can't let you leave with that." Kid moved to take the broach back but Black Star quickly shoved his blade into Kid's chest, pausing his hand.

"I won't let you stop me, I won't let you take her away! I won't let you take this chance, I won't let you stand in my way!" Black Star brought the knife down again and again before finally slamming the blade down hard, pining Kid's shoulder to the floor before hurrying off of him. "I have to be there." He staggered to the window. "I have to be there when she wakes up."

Kid groaned in pain and pulled the knife from his shoulder and sat up in time to see Black Star pause at the window ledge. A woman on a broom, one that seemed vaguely familiar, floated into view and Black Star held the broach out. With a running start, Kid rushed past Black Star, summoned his skateboard and gave chase as the woman headed towards the school on her broom.

Medusa looked at the broach as she flew towards the dark shadow of Shibusen. It was smooth, heavy and dotted with blood. It was strange and ingenious and had been one of the best secrets she had found in the back of the restricted sections of the school's library. But first, she'd need to get rid of the brat on her tail. Medusa had so hoped that she could keep her presence as a witch hidden for a little longer, but in moments it wouldn't matter. She pocketed the broach and turned to offer a smile to Kid who had gained on her and was now just inches from her broom bristles.

"Soul Release." He didn't seem the least bit surprised when her presence became clear, if anything the new angry expression on his face amused her. Medusa raised her hand and pointed at his skateboard. "Vector plate."

On the surface of his skateboard appeared an arrow pointing in the opposite direction and before the young Shinigami knew what was happening, he was thrown backwards off the toy. It was all she could do to keep from bursting out in laughter as Kid's already sore and bloodied body hit a nearby building and his board fell from the sky.

She landed at top speed on the wide Shibusen courtyard, running ahead, leaving the broom behind and quickly returning her soul protect. Undoubtedly, Stein would be here and she was well aware of the man's soul perception. He'd be her only hurdle left in her way to complete victory. Cautiously, she slipped into the hallway and pressed up against the end of a row of lockers. Her shoulders rolled back and Medusa raised her arms in front of her, letting her snake tattoos slither from her skin.

"Go ahead of me and let me know who's lurking." She whispered to the simple magical creatures and quickly they slid up the walls and across the ceiling. Deep breaths let her concentrate on the sounds around her as well as the signals from her pets as they worked their way down the hallway. The Death Room was the goal and was only maybe a few yards from where she was but being careless now would be disastrous. Carefully, so very carefully, Medusa snaked her way through the belly of Shibusen.

* * *

Black Star had lost most of the feeling in his right side by time he finished walking home. It hadn't been a deep puncture, just enough to make movement hurt like hell. Even now that asshole Shinigami didn't take him seriously. It didn't matter. It was obvious that the lady he had talked to just used him, like Kid had said. No one cared about him or Tsubaki. No one cared if they lived or died. He opened his door to find…

"Maka?" There she sat, like some weird hallucination, on his couch with Tsubaki's head in her lap.

"What happened to you?" Gently, she moved out from under Tsubaki, propping her head with a pillow before hurrying up to Black Star.

"I got into a fight, but I won. What are you doing here?" Maka seemed to ignore him for a moment as she pulled his shirt up to look at the wound.

"Our old school nurse Medusa called and asked me to come over. She said she gave Tsubaki some medicine and that I should be here if she woke up before you got back."

"She actually did it?" Black Star pushed past Maka and over to Tsubaki. A lot of the color had returned to her face and her breathing was much deeper. "Yahoo! This is the best!"

"Don't move around too much when you're injured." Maka scolded. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit before you bleed all over the floor." By the couch was the bag Maka had packed. As soon as Tsubaki woke up, she was out of there and maybe now the three of them could go and set things right. In the bathroom, the thought caused the first grin to cross her lips in days and she took a moment to look at it in the mirror. Things were turning around.

Outside his apartment building, Eruka looked up from her newspaper. She wore a cute blue and green striped dress and generally blended in, just like the combined and incognito Mizune sisters next to her.

"Did you see him go in?" She asked and Mizune nodded. "Good, you know the orders." The disguised mice sisters chittered in excitement.

Maka had managed to clean, close and bandage his side as Black Star waited in anticipation. She cleared her throat before asking "Don't you think it's weird that Medusa knew how to help Tsubaki when Stein couldn't do anything?"

"I guess it helps that she's a witch, huh?" Black Star shrugged and Maka's hands stopped in her knot tying.

Obviously she had misheard. "Witch?"

"Yeah, but it's fine, cuz she made it alright." Black Star grinned at her and Maka just stared in disbelief.

"You made a deal with a witch? What did you have to do to get her to do this for you?" She stood, fists clenched.

"Nothing. It's not important, just sit back and wait, Tsubaki'll wake up like any second now." He turned his gaze back to his sleeping partner.

"Are you even listening? How dumb do you have to be to make a deal with a witch, Black Star?" He finally turned to see Maka with her hands on her hips.

"If you were in my shoes and Soul only had hours to live, wouldn't you do the same? It wasn't like I had to kill anyone, so don't worry about it."

"Witches don't just do people favors, stupid! It's probably a lot worse than it seems."

Before Black Star could disagree, a small noise next to him caught his attention. A soft 'Mmm' as Tsubaki shifted her head to the side. Her eyes, those cobalt eyes he had missed, slowly opened halfway and a small smile crossed her lips.

"Black Star…?"

It was like a chorus of angels. Even if the world had come together to chant his name, the sound wouldn't have been nearly as glorious as it was coming from her.

"It's about time you decided to wake up!" He smiled despite the tears of joy rushing down his cheeks and Maka had to bite her lip to keep from getting emotional as well. Stupid choices aside, her anger just melted away to relief. Black Star pulled Tsubaki into a tight hug and she rested her hands on his back.

"I'm sorry I worried you." Even after he had messed up and caused her to be in that condition to begin with, it was she who apologized. It just made him bury his face into her shoulder more, enjoying the sound of her pulse, the returned warmth to her skin.

"I wasn't worried one bit, I knew you'd make it back."

"Black Star, did you say it was just one witch that helped you out?" Maka asked, walking over.

"Yeah, the old nurse from the school."

"Well there's seven just outside your apartment building." She moved for the door and as soon as she pulled it open, smoke began to roll inside. Quickly, she turned back. "We have to get out of here, grab Tsubaki, let's go."

The three of them rushed into the hallway, only to join the other tenants who were beginning to panic as the air grew more and more hazy with smoke. The emergency exits weren't opening. The windows in the apartments weren't breaking. Outside, Eruka and the five Mizune sisters had hexed the exits closed as the building began to burn.

Tsubaki coughed in Black Star's arms and he gritted his teeth. "I didn't go through all this trouble to die in a fire!"

"Well none of this would be happening if you didn't make stupid deals with the devil, you idiot!" Maka hit him in the head before rushing back into his apartment to try to break the window. It just bounced her efforts back. She swallowed and tried again. This wasn't how it was going to end, not when she had finally resolved to do the right thing and stand up for what she knew to be true! They hadn't suffered and struggled to die now. Maka gathered her strength and again hit the glass, praying for the treble of breaking glass.

* * *

Stein had just gone on his break when he had first sensed a witch's presence heading towards the school but by time he had made it into the upper levels of the school, the presence had disappeared. There weren't many people there, so it would just be a matter of tracking down the one soul that was out of place.

Her snake had caught sight of him first and Medusa quickly slipped into an abandoned music room. Her pet kept watch, undetected since it lacked a soul. It slithered high above Stein as he followed the pulse of her soul, pounding with a high level of adrenalin. Medusa hurried to the back corner of the room and stood, her arms out in front of herself. She steadied her breathing and concentrated, ready to drop her protect and send a barrage of arrows the moment the door opened. The witch was poised much like a cobra, daring him to come an inch closer. Stein paused and readied himself outside the door. Whoever was there was in the far corner and was obviously prepared for him. With a deep breath he put his hand on the doorknob.

That was when the presence of seven witches downtown caught his attention and froze his hand. With a little concentration, Stein could feel a number of other souls involved and emotions of fear and desperation. As much as he would love to tempt fate and open this door, the lives of fifty some innocent people were in danger. He quickly turned from the door and rushed down the hall.

Medusa let out a long exhale, allowing her muscles to relax before a smirk crossed her lips. Once her snake confirmed that he was gone, Medusa slipped from the room and around the last corner before reaching the large Death Room door. From her pocket, she held up the blood splattered pin and the door opened, accepting its presence as though Kid was there himself. With little effort, the witch pushed open the door and stepped into the Death God's inner sanctuary.

Kid was sore, tired, drained but still he rounded the corner of the hall. His neck ached, his chest burned, and his back throbbed from the impact when he had been thrown off his skateboard. He had turned the last corner just in time to catch the woman's slit pupil eyes and wide evil smirk as she closed the door behind herself.

"Father!"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the wait! Sorry it jumped around so much. Things will smooth out soon!


	11. Vox Populi

**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter 11: Vox Populi**

"Please step forward and state your name."

It was cold, which was strange for being in the sweltering middle of nowhere. Couldn't those bastards turn down the air conditioner? He opened his mouth, trying his best not to let his sharp teeth chatter.

"Soul Evans. Um. I don't understand-"

"State your weapon class." The middle aged man in a lab coat commanded, one of the six that sat along one side of a table before him. There wasn't a lot of light in the place, which Soul was thankful for. There was just his spot light and the light on the table of his onlookers.

"But. I don't get why I have to-"

"Just answer the question, Mr. Evans."

"Agh, I'm a scythe ok? Look, can I please get-"

"You may get dressed after we finish our analysis." The only part of him that was warm were his hands since Soul was busy desperately trying to cover himself before the scrutiny of his captors. "This is common procedure when we investigate our stock, it is nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Stock? Like stuff you keep in the back room of a store, or like livestock?" The man ignored his question and jotted things down on papers Soul couldn't see from here.

"Since your type is so rare, we'll require a genetic sample."

"Like blood, or hair?" Soul swallowed.

"No. A reproductive sample." The guy just kept jotting, not even having the decency to look up at Soul when telling him he'd be treated like some prized show horse, doing god knows what with his…

"Hell no, that's not gonna happen!" Ok there had to be a way outta here. Think, Soul, think. But from his spotlight he couldn't even tell where there were walls in the darkness that surrounded him.

"You are within your pubescent years, are you not? Are you able to produce a sample?"

"Well yeah, but that doesn't mean you can-"

"Do you want your type to die out? This is for the betterment of the future."

"I promise, I can make more scythes all on my own without your help, ok? Look, you guys have already poked, prodded, measured and weighed me. I really want to get dressed and get back to the little hole you've assigned me. Amy's probably getting worried and-"

"The child is being looked after by our associates, you have nothing to worry about, Mr. Evans. Now. If you prefer to carry out your own reproduction, we can arrange a proper match and a suitable place to conceive in."

"No! I'm not some dog you guys get to breed! I'm a person! I don't remember going overseas; this is still America, isn't it? What is wrong with you people?" His voice echoed off of the walls in the large empty darkness. The men before him sat there and waited for silence before humoring him with any sort of reply.

"You're right, you're completely right. We can't force you, but in a few months or a year or two, I'm sure you won't be so contrary to the idea."

He gritted his teeth. "Trust me, I won't be here that long."

"Oh of course not, Mr. Evans." The man patronized. "Of course you won't." He waved and three guards ushered Soul out of the room and into a small changing room where his clothes were waiting. After getting dressed, he sat on the small seat provided. He couldn't stay here much longer.

Soon Soul was sent back out into Nowhere, the name the captive weapons had given the place. It was somewhere in the desert, but it was hard to tell where, exactly. Nowhere was surrounded by a seven story patrolled wall and had blocks like a regular city but these blocks were made of quickly built mostly cinderblock two story buildings that held four 'homes' and a communal bathroom in each. A home consisted of one bed, one window, one outlet, and one small table. The bathroom was just two toilets, a mirror, and a sink where they'd go to get their drinking water as well.

There were three larger and taller buildings in the center of Nowhere. One was the cafeteria where certain blocks were supposed to report at certain times to eat, only one meal a day issued. Weapons were to shower in the other large building which was closely monitored by the armed officials. Officials armed with weapons they had probably bought from the same guys that had started this whole thing.

There was one other building in Nowhere, the one he had come from that was more like a laboratory where weapons were supposed to report now and then to be re-measured and reweighed or 'volunteer' to test the government's 'painless' human to weapon interfaces. Those who volunteered almost never came back. Women and children weren't treated any kinder than the males. They were all 'stock' in the end.

Lines rose and fell over the white painted cinderblocks, windows to other places sat there unhidden in the sanctuary of their home and the small child had dominion over it all. She wasn't a captive, not when she had imagination, not while she was armed with a box of crayons and markers and all the white walls she could mark. As soon as Soul walked in, Amy jumped up and threw open her arms, pressing her back against the warming stone walls.

"Don't look I'm not done yet!" For the past five days, Soul had thanked whoever was above that he had stopped to help this little girl because if it weren't for her, who knew what condition his mind would have been in. She was an adorable distraction from everything. He quickly covered his eyes.

"Ok, ok, I won't look." Soul could hear her giggle, followed by the sounds of her markers squeaking and her wax crayons streaking across the wall. Slowly, he peeked between his fingers to watch Amy stop, tilt her head, hold out her arm and raised thumb like a painter before going back to scribbling with such enthusiasm.

"Ok done!" She got up and moved out of the way as Soul lowered his hands and stared at the picture the little girl had drawn. There, on one side of the small window, with the floor as their ground stood a stick figure with a red skirt, yellow pigtails and green dots for eyes smiling. She was holding hands with another stick figure with red dots, a zigzag smile and a squiggly line around his head to show a big puff of hair. On the other side of the window was a small stick figure of a little girl with brown pigtails and a princess crown and green dress, holding hands with her smiling stick figure mother. Green squiggles at the floor showed plush, wonderful grass and fluffy clouds floated above their heads.

"It's…" He didn't have words.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Amy hunched her shoulders and ducked her head a little and Soul walked over to pick her up.

"No, this is great." He sat on the bed with her in his lap and Amy smiled, pulling from the large pocket on her dress a picture.

"Good, I think I really did a good job catching her likemiss." She giggled and held up the picture that Soul had left on the table of him and Maka. He took the picture back, thankful there weren't any marks on it and a bittersweet smile crossed his lips as he looked from the photo back to the wall.

"You sure did. That's just about as skinny as she is." Amy giggled at that and hugged him and it was moments like that that helped block out the darkness of this place. "You know what? We should decorate all our walls, even the ceiling."

The little girl's eyes grew as big as dinner plates at the prospect. "You...you really mean it, Mr. Soul?"

"Yeah, let's make it look just like home." He put her down for a moment and took a yellow marker before standing on the bed and drawing the grinning sun on the ceiling.

"Oh! I wanna draw the moon!" Amy jumped up and down and as soon as Soul was finished he scooped up the girl and held her up on his shoulders so her little arms could reach. Once the moon and stars and clouds were taken care of, he let the girl down and picked his own spot on the wall to decorate.

As Soul watched the line of red trail behind the waxy tip of the crayon, his mind drifted to the red-maroon walls that had towered endlessly over him when he was sweet, young and innocent like Amy. They were smooth and perfect and stretched up with the windows to the ceiling far, far, far beyond his reach. Even the walls had looked down on him there.

"Look! I got it this time!" His younger self tugged on his mother's hand, pulling her ahead over the red gold carpets and the black and white checker tile floors. He had been so proud then, with his sharp but gap-toothed grin he rushed ahead as his mother looked on with horror. On the wall in the music room he had scrawled a shaky lined staff with E G B D F next to quarter notes on each line. F A C E by half notes in the spaces. He had even added appropriate rests and divided it into proper standard 4/4 measures.

Any moment she'd say how happy she was. Any moment she'd hug him and tell him that he was progressing well, just like his brother. Any moment. After all, he had worked for hours on it. He had studied and looked over it to be sure. But instead, his wrist ached as she grabbed his hand and turned him around. His backside hurt as she spanked him again and again. His heart broke as she yelled for marring the wall with his scribbling and that he should pray that his father didn't hear about this.

He had only wanted her to be happy…

"Whatcha drawing?" Amy asked, looking over his shoulder. Soul quickly shook his head and looked at the shaky five lines he had drawn while lost in his thoughts. He quickly used the side of his hand to smear them until it was a pinkish haze on the white painted cinderblocks.

"It was nothing." But Soul paused for a moment. It wasn't that music was bad, in fact music was one of the best things out there. All kids should have a basic understanding and appreciation for it, yet his first reaction was to hide it away from her, as if he was protecting anyone but himself. "I'll show you later, ok? How's your side coming along?"

"I'm almost done! Now get back to work, slow-poke or we'll never finish our masserpiece!"

By the time their block was called for their meal, they had the sun and moon on the ceiling and the sky line of Death City on the walls. Amy drew little stick figures of her friends there amongst the shapes of the buildings and Soul had begun to draw in his friends as well. There was Black Star with big blue hair and a big smile and he had decided to draw Tsubaki next to him. There was no doubt that she'd pull through. As soon as he finished adding her long hair to her taller stick figure, he felt warmth, hope spread through him, as if that was enough to make it true. Everything would be fine because a stick figure picture existed. Soul moved on to drawing Kid with his short figure and striped hair and straight mouthed blank expression. Next was Patty with choppy yellow hair and a wide smile and blue cowboy hat. His hand stopped when he moved to draw Liz and the warmth soon faded away.

Soul turned to check on Amy and saw her working on drawing a cat in a tree and as he turned to look back at his own drawing, he noticed there was another figure next to the stick figure of her mother. Amy had added a tall man with pointy brown hair, puffy and lumpy wings and a yellow halo.

"Amy, is that your dad?"

The little girl looked up at him before looking to the picture and nodding with a smile. "Yeah! Mommy says he's an angel now, helping protect people. A Garbian Angel. He's probably watching over Mommy since you're here to protect me."

Soul didn't know what to say to that and just simply turned back to the awaiting pictures of Kid and Patty. After a moment he got up, closed his markers and picked up the little girl. "Let's go eat."

They paused at the door though, to admire their work. There all around them was home, their real home, their friends and family. No matter where they were taken, no matter what happened, they'd take their memories and their angels with them.

* * *

The people from the lower three floors had moved to the fourth as fire consumed the first two floors. Maka was doing her best to keep everyone calm and organize a combined effort to push through the large metal emergency exit door. Black Star had sat Tsubaki in a corner with a wet rag to breathe through as he worked with everyone else to break through the door. Feeling was returning to her body but the burning air in her lungs and the growing warmth on her skin wasn't what was on her mind. Black Star was.

Every word he had said. Every action he had done, she had seen. Every gesture she remembered and now, to see him work so diligently to help everyone despite his own shaken loyalty, it only made her even more sure. Black Star had grown so much in the past few days, becoming the man she saw inside of him and the joy of that, the joy that she could move forward with him now outweighed the fear by far. Beside Tsubaki sat the gathered children, about five under the age of twelve that were crying, trying to stay under the growing cloud of smoke. The building groaned as the fire continued to eat the lower levels and the children cried out in fear as the floor shifted.

"It's going to be ok." She moved closer to one crying little boy. "Do you see that man there?" The little boy looked up as she pointed to Black Star as he and the other adults surged forward against the door.

"He's going to save everyone. He's a hero, and a god." Gently, Tsubaki wiped the soot from the boy's face and patted a little girl's head before standing on wobbly legs. If Black Star was a god, what did that make her?

From the front of the crowd, Black Star caught sight of Tsubaki walking over, smoke like dark clouds parting as she approached. If he was a god, then surly she was an angel. His messenger, his own personal mercy in a heavenly body. In the flickering hallway lights he saw her smile softly and read the undying trust in her eyes as she held out her hand, the end of her hair shifting back into chain and scythe.

The group of adults parted when the last remaining weapon walked to her meister. Tsubaki gave Maka a small appreciative nod and a positive grin before changing for Black Star. There were a number of unknowns. Considering what she had just recovered from, it was hard to tell if she'd be able to shift weapon forms or even return to human form after this. But there was no longer any choice in the matter, and if she was lost after this, then it would be worth it. To show the humans present that the goodness Shibusen had taught was right. That caring for one another no matter what race you were was right. If this was the last stand a weapon and meister would have, the message would be positive.

Black Star's hands tightened around her handles and he listened to the clinking of her chains. It was right, perfect in every way, the weight, the sound, the pulse they shared. It had to be the smoke, but his eyes watered a little. Never again would he dare to forget how lucky he was to hold such an amazing weapon in his hands, never would he forget how blessed he was to just have her company, to hear her voice say his name, lay down her life and trust him with her body and soul. His strength had returned. As Black Star stepped towards the door, it was clear that both of them had returned.

"Everyone, back up!" Maka shouted. "Grab the children and get to the ends of the hallway!" The adults watched, but they weren't who this was for. Adults had learned the art of justification, knowing just how to twist the honest truths they saw and heard and knew into what they wanted to see, hear and know. No, this was for the children who would remember when an angel and a god saved their lives.

Outside, there was a battle going on. Stein was currently doing what he could to stop Eruka and the now separated Mizune sisters so that the holding spell on the doors and windows would break. It only took three witches to maintain the spell, so Eruka and two of the six sisters remained in place while the other four sisters swooped and dived at Stein with their razor whiskers.

Eruka, of course, wanted nothing more than to run. It didn't even make sense, the stupid guy wasn't even armed, but he was still there challenging them. She watched in horror as he ducked a swooping rat witch and grabbed her cloak, pulling her to the ground before sending a soul wave through her. Mizune screeched in pain and then just laid there in the small crater the attack had caused.

Oh man, where was the signal? The orders were to hold the spell until the building burned to the ground or there was a signal from Medusa. Eruka's concentration on the spell was wavering as her fear increased. Why did Medusa even pick her? There were thousands of witches to choose from! It was then that it hit her. They were bait for this guy, it wasn't about the people in this stupid building at all!

Before Eruka could tell Mizune to forget it, a star shaped shadow appeared over her head and the poor frog could hardly jump out of the way in time before a star shaped chunk of the wall crashed into the street.

"Today, I've earned my halo!" Black Star shouted, holding Tsubaki high. It was enough of a distraction for Stein to look up and grin to see that idiot armed and back to his normal self. When he turned back, the witches had escaped.

"Black Star, throw Tsubaki down there at the roof of that other building." Maka pointed across the narrow street. "Everyone can zip line out of here on her chain."

"Gotcha." He nodded and did as Maka had asked and soon person after person slid to safety.

Maka gave him a brief hug. "Good job, but you're still an idiot."

"I'm not the one calling people names in a burning building." He gave her a small shove and Maka slid down the chain holding onto her tie and landed safely on the roof across the street.

"I'm gonna slide over there and then you're going to change back to your human form, ok?" He touched her chain. "I'm so glad to get you back."

"I'm very glad to be back." She replied. "Now go, the whole building is shaking." He nodded and tore a section of his shirt to slide down on. Once safe on the other side he removed Tsubaki's blade from where it was lodged.

"You can change back now." But she remained in weapon form. He urged her to change shape but there was no shift.

Maka came forward and touched his shoulder. "Let me help." The saved occupants looked on as the two friends, for the first time since the world had ended, truly came together. Maka and Black Star's normally conflicting souls managed to work together in their common worries, common troubles, and common love for the weapon in hand. The pull from them both was enough to return Tsubaki, the girl landing in their arms. It had taken far too much for them to come together, to work together and break the isolation they had drifted into. Teamwork and courage in the face of danger was what they had been taught, it was finally time to put it to use. While Maka and Black Star were recovering Tsubaki, Stein had begun to help the civilians from the roof and once they were all sent to safety, he turned his attention to the three of them.

"Well done, all of you. Now, do you three know why seven witches would be trying to kill you?"

"It probably has something to do with the deal Black Star made." Maka pointed.

"What? Geeze, I didn't have any choice!" He shouted. "You would have done the same thing!"

"I would have at least thought about it a little!" Maka put her hands on her hips.

"I didn't exactly have a lot of time to think!"

Stein sighed and stepped between the two. "What deal are you talking about?"

"The nurse that used to work at the school showed up and said she'd bring Tsubaki back if I stole Kid's broach for her. So I did. It's not a big deal."

Stein just stared at him. "Please tell me you're joking."

"It's just a stupid pin! And it's not like it can mess things up even more than things are!" He was getting tired of everyone making such a big deal over something so little.

"What's it do?" Maka asked but he turned from her.

"I don't have time to explain. Shinigami-sama is in danger." That said, the man rushed to the roof's exit and Maka followed after.

"They're going to need you." Tsubaki took Black Star's hand. "Let's go."

"Sure, but I'm not gonna let them call me the bad guy. I don't regret what I did." He squeezed her hand.

Stein instantly felt foolish. He could have stopped this if he had opened that door but in the end he was played just like Kid had been, moving right along to their opponent's plans. Kid triggered the movement, Shinigami-sama had his hands tied, Black Star did something stupid to get what he wanted and now Stein listened to his perception instead of his instincts. He could have stopped her but had walked away to take the bait and help Maka and Black Star who didn't really need his help anyway. Humans, weapons, technicians, everyone had been used like pieces on a chess board and right now, the queen was moving into position.

Check mate was inevitable.

* * *

Once inside the room, Medusa had removed her soul protect and the blades on the guillotine walkway had reacted, dropping as soon as she got close. Nothing she couldn't outrun with the help of a succession of vector plates. The last blade crashed down behind her and Medusa brushed the dust from her dress before smiling at the towering Shinigami in front of her.

"Wow! You've set a new record." Shinigami-sama clapped. "No witch has ever gotten this close before! Are you here to make demands?"

"If I simply wanted to make demands, I could have done that at a safe distance." Medusa said without the slightest hint of intimidation in her tone or demeanor. "I have to say, I benefited greatly from my education here at Shibusen. It's a shame that the humans don't appreciate your brand of blood soaked schooling."

"Oh ho ho ho, then you must be insane, because any witch in her right mind would know that coming here is suicide."

"Insanity?" She laughed. "Insanity is hiring staff without background checks or having virtually no security in the darkest reaches of your library." Her amused tone shifted into sharp anger. "Insanity is thinking you're untouchable. Even gods can be killed. I read all about how you lost your body after the fight with Asura and bound your soul to the city through two ancient artifacts. One is that mirror behind you and the other was your mask."

Shinigami-sama, still not taking her seriously, removed his mask and handed it to her, revealing the dark and empty cloak behind it. "Well you're going to need this, aren't you?"

"Don't insult my intelligence." Medusa frowned. "That's not your original mask."

She pulled out the broach and Shinigami-sama replaced his mask at the sight of it in the witch's hand, speckled with blood. "If you've hurt my son-"

"I didn't touch him, but you should have seen his friend slit his throat for it. As a parent as well, I can appreciate your ingenuity. Having both artifacts in the same place at the same time wasn't safe, so you made this out of your original mask and attached it to your child's neck, which I find especially amusing because decapitation is a way of killing a corporeal Shinigami like him. You knew he'd protect his neck above all else and taught him to bounce around, for his safety, maybe, but for your own as well. Is there anyone that you haven't manipulated and lied to?"

In an instant, Shinigami-sama rushed at her but tumbled forward as she gripped the broach in both hands and snapped it in half, the resounding crack echoing over the walls, sending tremors throughout the city.

Outside, as Maka, Black Star, Tsubaki and Stein ran towards the school, Maka stopped and turned her face to the sky. The blue sky seemed to grow a shade darker as the white dome of their god's soul shrunk till it just covered the school.

"Professor Stein-" Maka had begun but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward.

"I know. We have to keep moving."

* * *

The surface of the Death Room door was smeared with blood, but Kid kept pushing, pounding, struggling to budge the stone. His shoulder had broken, healed and broken again, breaking and rebreaking skin in its splintering. His knuckles had split the thin flesh over them, but still he kept trying. There was no other way in and again, like some horrible reoccurring nightmare, he was being held back as someone he loved was in danger. He should have tried harder to fend off Black Star, he should have been faster, stronger, more aggressive. But there had been so much pain… Kid leaned heavily against the door panting, letting his blood covered hand smear more streaks of red over the surface. Everyone had suffered so much pain because of him, his mistakes, and now…

* * *

"Look at you." Medusa looked down her nose at Death. "The terror you've inflicted on our kind for centuries ends today." That said, Medusa tossed the two sections of the pin in the air before a barrage of arrows converged on them and sent shards falling to the floor. Cracks spread over the dome of the Death Room and one by one the guillotines fell, the wood cracking, the metal breaking and bending as it collapsed.

"Surly that's not everything you have. I was expecting a much more challenging fight." And then the woman dared to turn her back on him, arms crossed as she wandered towards the wood and metal rubble, as if she had grown bored. As if she had lost all interest in even killing him in her disappointment.

The floor was rough, not that Death could feel it. He hadn't felt anything in _centuries_. For hundreds of years he knew life as a puppet, cloth and stone moved in order to speak to those still living and sat as a figure head as he waited patiently for his son to grow and release him. His soul clung to the earth by two strong holds and in all that time, he hadn't felt the rare embrace from his son, he hadn't felt the warmth of the sun or the cool of the night. He hadn't eaten, couldn't recall the taste of anything, he hadn't hurt or bled or delighted in any physical thing. Death hadn't left the city limits, hadn't had the chance to admire the beauty of the world, the mountains, the oceans, forests or rivers, left to look at them through his mirror from his small spot in the desert. He was a god, but bound more so than any free man.

It was a special sort of isolation in his duties and he waited, waited, waited for Kid to grow, to fully develop. But in his waiting Death had forgotten what it was like to fight, to struggle, to live when all this time, in all honesty, he was truly waiting for his turn to die. Hidden behind a funny mask, tucked behind a humorous tone of voice, that was what it had been. Maintain Shibusen, push Kid onwards so that one day he could rest.

So he could see her again.

But there was no longer anything to maintain. All his efforts, all his work was gone. He couldn't leave Kid with this, what sort of father leaves his son to rule over the ruins of a fallen kingdom? It would be easy to lay there and let this horrible creature remove his last bit of binding, but that would shame everything he had ever taught or stood for.

Medusa smirked as she heard the cloth shift as Shinigami-sama stood upright. She instantly bolted back along the walkway, jumped over fallen beams and avoided shattered metal as the death god closed in on her from behind. The door to the Death Room was just ahead.

"Are you running away? Where was all that talk a moment ago?" Death raised his hands, prepared to smash Medusa to bits.

Kid took a deep breath and again shoved against the door, taken by surprise as it swung open and he stumbled inside. Medusa smiled at him as she flipped over him, daring to even pat his head before sticking her landing. With Kid suddenly between them, Shinigami-Sama hesitated in his strike. It was all Medusa needed.

Kid's confused eyes turned from Medusa to his father as he wrapped the boy in his cloak.

"I'm sorry Kiddo…" He had heard in the warm darkness of the icon of his father. "I am proud."

Medusa sent a barrage of arrows through both Shinigami, piercing through cloak and body within as they sped past and through, casting speeding shadows and splatters of blood over broken ruins. Under the cracked dome where fake blue sky stretched, black arrows sped ahead to their reflection. They missed the yellow throne where the hard working, expecting prince had sat, admiring his father and dreaming of the time he'd reign in his place. Their unfeeling tips hit the cool surface of the mirror with no remorse, one after the other crashed through, shattering the glass. The giant mirror creaked and groaned before spilling the reflective shards to the floor. Just as the cloak had fallen, the three pronged mask clattered and cracked on the floor.

Cautiously, Medusa stepped closer, lifting an edge of the cloth to see the bleeding, unconscious, and last remaining Shinigami inside. She called forth an arrow and aimed it carefully. It would be so simple, a quick decisive move with her arrow and she could sever his head and there'd be no more gods to fear. The arrow moved back, preparing for deployment but ultimately she let it fade away as Medusa dropped the edge of the cloth to pick up the cracked mask instead.

The poor boy had suffered so greatly and after that sort of suffering, death would be too great a release. Besides, he was still a powerful asset, perhaps a tool she could use even more later on or a valuable research subject to explore in the future. For now, he could sleep in the last physical remains of his father. Besides, the shining, slightly larger than normal white soul caught her attention; a Shinigami's soul, an object of power unmatched by any other on earth, now vulnerable and there for the taking. Medusa held it in her hand and felt the tingle of the power spread over her skin.

Witches were the voiceless hunted of the world, and as much as Medusa would claim that it was for them. In all honesty, this was for her. This power, in her hand, it was for her. There had never been a living creature that had eaten a Shinigami's soul before, so this would make for a very interesting experiment. Medusa parted her lips and like a true snake unhinged her jaw to take the whole thing into her mouth and swallowed it whole. She had to admit, the irony was delicious.

* * *

Stein stopped the kids outside of the blood smeared door.

"It's not true, is it, please, tell me it's not." Maka stared up at her professor with wide, fearful eyes.

"Let's go in and see." Black Star moved forward but Stein grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. "I hate it when you two get all soul-persp-whatever and leave the rest of us out."

Before Stein could explain anything to Black Star a sudden shock wave made the four of them stumble forward. Maka fell to her knees. For the first time she wished so much not to be special. It would be better if she were like Black Star and had no idea what was going on. She could tell past that door was Medusa, her soul huge and surging with new power, Kid's own weak, faint wavelength and no sign of Shinigami-sama anywhere at all. But it was what had happened outside that had stolen her strength and sent her to her knees.

"What the hell was that?" Black Star shouted.

"Black Star…" Tsubaki was standing by the window. "Come look."

Outside was the wide desert sky and grinning sun and the endless stretch of desert past that, but a dark moving band stretched between sky and earth and dotted the air. An army of witches was approaching on foot and by air and their numbers stretched thick and as far as Black Star could see either way.

"There's gotta be thousands!"

"42, 564." Stein said as he helped Maka to her feet.

Tsubaki turned from the window to Stein. "What can we do?"

"Shinigami-Sama's gonna come out and-" Black Star had begun but Stein hit the boy in the back of the head to shut him up.

"He can't do anything because of you. He's gone and Medusa's eaten his soul." He paused and looked out the window. "It's not likely any of us are going to survive without our weapons."

The three students stared at him at that before Black Star shook his head. "You're joking, right? We have to have a plan."

"There's only one way." He turned to Maka. "You still have Soul's bike, right?" She nodded weakly, her mind still trying to comprehend it all.

"Then the three of you take it and leave on the east side exit since their numbers are weaker in that direction. Head to the weapons camp. It's a few miles north east of Searchlight, Maka's soul perception should help you locate it. Once you get there, free the weapons at any cost and bring them back."

"What about you?" Maka asked and Stein patted her head.

"That's a question I expect more from Black Star. Now go." He didn't have to say it, and Maka didn't want to accept it. Stein was a bit of a mentor, sometimes even acting as father figure when she had hated Spirit, and it was clear in his eyes, past the glare on his glasses. This could be…perhaps was goodbye.

"Everyone's going to depend on you three bringing all of our partners back. Black Star, you're the only technician right now with a weapon, this is your chance to shine, don't mess it up."

"You can count on me!" He gave the man a thumbs up and Tsubaki rushed over to hug Stein and Maka quickly joined.

"Thank you for everything, Professor." Tsubaki said and Maka couldn't find words to say and still remained after Tsubaki had let go and joined Black Star's side.

Stein gently pulled from her and knelt a little more to her height. She wasn't his, but getting to see the girl grow stronger somehow made the troubles of the past seem worthwhile. "Maka, they're probably holding your father in a higher security sector of the camp. If you see him, tell him he's an idiot for me." It was enough to make her smile despite her constricted chest and dry throat.

She let go and nodded. "You can count on me," before rushing to her friends and down the hall.

Once alone, Stein lit a cigarette as he watched the approaching siege. So this was it, huh? What better way was there to go than in a battle of this scale? It beat dying alone and peaceful like a forgotten lab rat. After a long drag, he smashed his last cigarette under foot before turning his attention to the blood smeared door. So the black queen might have taken their king, but as a bishop, he still had a move left to play. Two good cranks of his head screw, and Stein pushed on the door, feeling it give and open easily.

* * *

Amy was taking her after meal nap and Soul was busy trying to refresh his memory on simple music theory. A small FM/AM radio he had brought from home was plugged into their one outlet and he wasn't truly paying attention to the scratchy reception until he heard the broadcast.

"Breaking news, an unprecedented number of witches has gathered around Death City, the former home of Shibusen. When asked about the evacuation of the citizens inside, local officials stated that the threat was too great on the newly formed law enforcement and that any attempt to evacuate the city would only put volunteers in danger. Officials also reported that since they are still organizing the newly recovered weapons, deployment to aid the city simply isn't possible." Soul dropped his pencil, all air leaving his lungs as he forgot to inhale. "All attempts to contact Shinigami have failed and there doesn't seem to be any defensive action from the city. All are expecting a massacre. More information at six."

Soul stood and instantly moved to wake Amy, but he couldn't possibly wake her to take her into a battle like that. So, Soul grabbed a piece of paper and wrote her a note instead, sticking it to his stick figure on the wall. Hopefully the girl would know to take the letter to someone who could read.

'Dear Amy, I need to go back home to help protect Maka and your mommy. If I don't come back, don't worry. I'll still be there to protect you. Your friend, Mr. Soul.'

Before leaving he paused to look at the girl and took the picture of him and Maka from his pocket and placed it by her pillow. "Be good, sleep tight."

If all else went wrong, Amy would remember them. She'd remember this room and the way their home had been, recorded in marker and crayon and memory forever.

Outside, it seemed a number of other weapons had heard and soon they were gathering in the streets. Typically, the heat of the sun kept them from moving from block to block and really talking to one another, but this. It couldn't be ignored. At the moment it was all chatter, everyone was panicking and speculating. Soul climbed to the top of a cinderblock home.

"Hey! Everyone listen up! If we don't do something now, everyone we know and care about is going to die!"

"What are we going to do? We can't leave!" Someone shouted at him. Soul took a deep breath and tried to think. How would Maka handle this? What plan would she come up with?

"We outnumber all the guards here. All we have to do is plan a decent attack. Now, are there any people here that are both weapon and technician?"

"Soul?" The familiar voice had him scanning the crowd and he smiled when he spotted Patty jumping up and down. "Me! I'm both!"

"Patty! Awesome, anyone else?" Five others stepped forward. "You guys pick a weapon, anyone else that can do a partial transformation get ready." After that, a plan was quickly formulated. As proud as he'd like to be for being able to take leadership for a bit and get things under control, there was just too much worry. Their apartment wasn't that far from the edges of town. Maka might still be waiting for him back home.

* * *

"Get on the bike already!" Maka screamed but Black Star just shook his head.

"I'm not getting on behind a chick."

"It's my weapon's bike, Stein told me to get it, just get on the bike or we're all going to die!"

Tsubaki was currently in her chain scythe form around his neck and Black Star shook his head, hands on his hips. "For someone so smart, you're awful dumb. A motorcycle has no defense and we need to drive through a wall of witches." He climbed up and sat on the handlebars, feet resting on top of the shocks for the front wheel. "Now we're ready."

"I can't see past your big head." She frowned. Why did he always have to be so difficult? This mess was part his fault now, the least he could do was listen!

"You'll be fine once I stand up, just go already! Soul's waiting!"

Maka growled in annoyance, revved the engine and tried to recall everything Soul had showed her that one random afternoon they had taken a drive. The bike lurched ahead and with just a little wobble Maka left the apartment garage and took off down the street.

Despite the situation, Black Star threw up his arms, letting out a nice loud Yahoo. Yeah, they could be plowing into certain death, but right now he was the only armed tech in the whole world! It really was his time to shine! As they approached the exit and the arch of the city's wall opened to the vast open sky, Black Star stood on the handle bars of the bike.

Maka bit her lip at the sight. It really was thousands of withes, their footsteps shaking even the ground as they rode head long towards them. Her heart pounded. Who knows what they'd throw at them and everyone in the city was depending on them to make it through and reach the camp. Soul was depending on them. She had to push through. Maka swallowed and sent the bike to top speed. They were seconds away from impact and seconds from either victory or death.

"All of you weren't expecting the world's best weapon and meister team coming at you top speed!" Black Star shouted at them, using Tsubaki to create his large chain star shield. With a deep breath, he braced for impact, still with a smile on his face.

"SKY ABOVE, SKY BELOW, I ALONE STAND ALMIGHTY!"

Their magical attacks bounced off of the high velocity moving shield and Maka stared in awe as they hit and plowed through the first few witches. Most of the rest moved out of the way, while others were run over or sliced when necessary. When their numbers broke away and all that was left was desert horizon, Maka couldn't help but laugh. They had done it! They had faced a wall of death and come out on the other side!

"Today I have surpassed the gods!" Black Star cheered, hands raised to the sky.

He hadn't expected the sky and ground to trade places.

One last magical attack from the witches caught the back of the bike, smashing the rear lights and sending it spinning from asphalt into the desert earth. Black Star was thrown early on, tumbling in the hard red dust, but Maka had spun and skidded with the bike for a distance before the machine left her behind and came to rest a short distance ahead.

"Black Star!" Tsubaki shifted out and knelt by his side and to her relief he lifted his head. "Can you get up? We have to hurry." She urged, a group of witches rushing back for them.

"Yeah I'm fine." He groaned, forcing himself to his feet with a little help from Tsubaki and the two hurried over to Maka.

Maka took in a deep breath, fighting to return air to her lungs and immediately tasted the bitterness of the earth in her gasp. The world was still spinning and her body ached, each nerve screaming in pain as she lifted her head. This was wrong…what was the bike doing over there? She had to get up, she had to keep moving. Soul was waiting. One hand pressed hard against the dirt followed by the other and Maka lifted her upper body up, cringing as her muscles shook. Soul needed her to get up. She had to get back to the bike. He'd be so mad if it was scratched. Her right leg moved under herself, but the left wouldn't move.

"Maka!" Black Star's voice turned her head and she saw them running towards her, four witches running after them and gaining. Again Maka tried to get up, able to stand on her right leg but her left thigh was gashed deeply, streaked with blood and crusted with dirt. She took a step forward and cried out in pain before tumbling forward, back onto the desert floor. The bike was just a little further ahead, her only hope of seeing him again just feet from her outstretched hand. After another failed attempt it became clear. This was as far as she'd get, this was the end of it. Black Star grabbed her but Maka shook her head.

"You don't have time, just go. If all of us are captured then there's no hope."

"I'll bring him back for you, so don't die before I get back." Black Star offered her a big grin before grabbing Tsubaki's wrist and pulling her ahead. And there, on the ground, Maka watched as Tsubaki brought the bike upright and Black Star jumped on it, took his weapon's hand, taking off. By the time she was snatched up and forced into standing by the witches, Black Star was a shrinking dot in the distance. Maka had so wanted to be there, to see the camp, to see Soul, reclaim him…hold him in her hands. To hold him close, feel his wavelength, hear him say the words she had stopped before. Now it was doubtful that she'd live long enough to see nightfall…

* * *

A/N: So. Recap: Shinigami-Sama is gone, witches are coming to massacre everyone in the city, Medusa is crazy powerful, Stein's going to confront her, Kid's out cold, Maka's captured, Soul's getting ready to help the weapon rebellion and Black Star's off to save the day. The next chapter's going to be fun, loooong and dark!

Right now there's a special music based preview of chapter 12. Check it out cuz in two days or so, I'm going to change it to a limited text preview. I also have a poll and would appreciate your input!

Thank you to all of you who have been reading so far!


	12. Furious Angels

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long. Laptop died, got a new one, moved into dorms, started classes and worked on lots of art for my convention table. So much stuff guys. I'm so sorry for the wait. Also, this isn't as long of a chapter as some of the others. I feel bad for that, but I hope you will enjoy it anyways.

The taste of blood and dirt was familiar to Maka. In the battles she had experienced, she had become acquainted with the dull and bitter flavor. Everything else was new. Her empty, lonely hands were new; lacking a loyal and sturdy staff and blade, bound behind her back with ropes tight enough to grind into her skin and make her fingers tingle and fall numb. She had always experienced success after the struggle, so this capture, this horrible defeat was also a new and unwelcome experience.

Maka's right leg was sore and shook with muscles worn and tired, and her left leg sent lightning strikes of pain from the gash deep in her flesh. These spikes of agony flew up her hip and pooled in her lower back. Despite the thick caking of dirt on her wound, blood would trickle, dry, crack and trickle again with each pained step forward. This was her dirt mingling with crimson on her thigh, and over the heads of the witches in front of her was the growing profile of her city, her home. The shapes of the towers and the proud and strong outline of the crowning school were all she had now. It all watched her as helpless to do anything about her pain as she was to stop the tragedy that would befall the walls and citizens within.

When her left leg gave out, Maka hit the ground on her right shoulder first before the dirt and rocks scraped across her cheek. Helpless to escape, helpless to save her people, Maka couldn't even soften her fall without her arms free. The rope-leash tied around her neck pulled, dragging her through the dirt a few inches before the beetle witch that held the end noticed she had fallen. Air and circulation stopped in those few moments and her sight wavered. For a second everything ended, leaving just the echoes of pain and the cold brush with nothingness and images of beautiful white caskets. But the tugging stopped, the rope relaxed and with a gasp the blinding light and hot air of the desert returned. Again, blood and grit spread over Maka's tongue as pain raked through her body.

When the world rushed back, Maka could feel the lump in her throat harden under the coarse leash. No, she wouldn't cry, not here, not like this. _But everything was so wrong_. She should be on that bike, speeding back to Soul, to free the weapons and rally them back to aid the citizens of Death City. But she had failed, she was careless and now, this was where she had ended up: face down in the dirt, alone and hopelessly out numbered. Shinigami-Sama was gone, her friends were gone, her father, Soul, everyone. It would be so easy to give up right now, to lose hope and retreat into numbness.

Where was her courage? Where was the well trained solider she had been before?

That Maka was buried, along with Liz. The naive notion that courage and determination could get you out of any situation died at that funeral. That Maka was far away, all her strength divided between the presence of her friends. That Maka was shaken and lost without the organization and Death God she had always followed orders from. That Maka ended up being just a girl in the end. A child, mortal, small and lost. She bled, shook and struggled back to her feet as the witch pulled her onwards by her horizontal noose.

In the streets of Death City, the remaining teachers of Shibusen and all of the technicians stood on the cobblestone roads. In their young, trembling hands were pathetic replacements for their true weapons: dull and lifeless shovels, boards, baseball bats and knives clutched in sweating palms. The unfamiliar silence radiating back from these objects only echoed the anticipation within. Humans who were brave enough to peek from the safety of their homes through cracks in their shutters and blinds watched as the young men and women they had betrayed stood and prepared to fight, perhaps die, to protect them.

In those moments, there was silence in the streets. The pounding of their hearts echoed only in their ears. The intake and slow exhale of air exaggerating the presence of life in their minds. In moments, in breaths it would begin. The noise of battle and the cries of pain. Armed with living weapons and engaged in active soul resonance, a trained team would still face mortal danger going up against just one witch... The air was dotted with flying shadows and the stones trembled as the witch army approached.

It was hopelessly undeniably impossible.

* * *

In the streets of Nowhere, similar hearts were racing. The plan was simple. The groups of weapons were separated into three to attack the three central buildings with the collection's best weapons heading the attack on the research facility. Some remained behind to care for the children or elderly. There was no time for covert discussions and detailed plans on entrances and approaches. This was just a revolt, like any other prison by any other name would encounter.

But there was so much at stake. Not their lives, because they were now a valuable commodity. No, at stake was everything they loved. At stake were their friends, their families, partners and lovers. At stake was their peace of mind, their dignity, their good night's sleep. If they failed, if Death City was lost they would lose their hope. They'd lose their will to fight, perhaps they'd even lose their sanity. Nothing would be left. So what were a few guards? How could thick, towering walls or even unfeeling, lifeless guns possibly stop them? So they ran forward, themselves bared, throwing it all on the line in a blind rush forward.

It was those stakes that were distracting Soul. Had the witches made it yet? Was Maka alright? On the front line of the head group, Soul pushed forward, deflecting poorly aimed bullets with his blade and cutting a path for the others to follow through. Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she still waiting for him to come back? No that wasn't like her. He didn't feel the warmth as he severed his way through another solider. He didn't hear their shouts, he didn't even see the guns really. No, Maka had to be in the streets, doing what she could to protect the people who couldn't fight. She'd never just sit by. What would she fight with? Maybe something staff based. A shovel maybe? It was better than a broom at least. No, even a shovel wasn't good enough. How could anyone hope to go against a witch with a shovel and live?

She'd need him.

He kicked in the door to the research facility.

She needed him.

The lights were off, but still he rushed in.

Maka needed him right now. _Right now_!

She could be hurt, she could be scared, bleeding, helpless, she could be-!

In his soul, in the back of his mind, the imp enjoyed this blind delirium. Here was chaos, and in Soul's worry his control of the little monster was loosening. The freedom was deliciously sweet on its tiny jagged teeth. The annoying little creature couldn't help but to waltz over the tiles, dragging out memories of Maka's screams and replaying them behind Soul's ears. He lead images of her bleeding, her falling, spinning them in his mind to the distorted three quarter time, slurring them with all the worst case scenarios the boy's imagination dared to picture. In return, the tempo of Soul's heart rate quickened, the rhythm heavily peppered with the staccato of adrenaline. The crescendo of urgency was brought to a climax with words still left to say—promises he still had to keep.

Oh this fear, this worry, this panic was so close to a special sort of insanity! Temporary insanity where one would simply move, motivated by fear, doing whatever it took to end that fear. Logic and reasoning often would disappear in situations like this. Was the last body he slashed just an innocent lab worker or was he armed? Soul wasn't even looking now. It was clear the boy wasn't paying attention to what he was doing, he was simply pushing through the hallways, taking out whoever dared to remain standing in his way. The vague goal of taking over the gate control room was there, but it was cloudy behind everything else. Find a way out, find a way home, find Maka, close the space between.

Hell, even the hope of _getting_ to Death City before all the residents were dead was insane, the imp chuckled as he continued to prod Soul with thoughts of Maka's danger. They were hours away from the city and the witches would surely reach the walls by then. It was crazy to think that his precious meister would still be alive when he got there, if he ever got there at all. And once he did get there, how could he hope to push through the fray and find her? Ridiculous! If Soul failed to get there in time and found the body of that girl, well! A grin spread over the imp's wide lips. Undoubtedly Soul's desire to keep control over him would disappear. In fact! In fact, the boy would probably _beg_ him to give him power to avenge her! Oh it would be wonderful! An army of returning weapons finding the corpses of their beloveds, an ocean of rage, a typhoon of grief and a smothering blanket of insanity as hundreds of them would rush into the witches, and possibly the traitorous humans, and kill everything until they themselves were killed. And this boy, this weapon, this tool of death would be at the front of the slaughter.

It would be..._amazing_.

Soul skidded around a corner, the floors waxed, his shoes slick with blood. Somewhere in the distance behind was the sound of his team members calling out for him. Somewhere ahead of him was a barricade of armed guards with guns aimed. Before him was just her. She needed him. _She needed him._ The flash of a barrel—

"Soul!" Maka's voice rang out clearly, joined with the sound of sea gulls. The sound hit him only a split second before a giant force had sent him tumbling, water, warm and salty filling his mouth. The tumbling stopped leaving poor confused Soul on his back on moist and rich sand, his long white bangs clinging to his closed eyes. The sound of her giggle and the feeling of the warm water rushing back up along his legs made him quickly wipe his hair aside.

There was Maka, leaning over him from above. Her hair was soaked as well, loose and clinging to the curves of her face and slender neck and shoulders. Her blue bikini top was modest, covering more than most of the others like it on the beach. More important, most reassuring was her smile.

"That's what you get for not listening to me. I tried to warn you." She offered him her hand which he looked at for a moment before looking back to her face. She blinked when he didn't take it and just stared at her. On her face played an enlightening order of emotions that he had never noticed before. First was confusion at his lack of movement. Worry was well hidden there after, it had only showed up for a split second and was disguised by the analytical look in her eyes as Maka tried to figure out what sort of expression she was looking at in him. Surprise followed, because she had become aware that he wasn't just seeing her, but studying, _appreciating_ her beauty. After all, he had done nothing to hide it, far too grateful, far too happy to see her and too confused at how he had gotten here to let petty fronts to keep his true feelings away. Disbelief quickly covered surprise and shifted into embarrassment that jerked back her offered hand. Fake anger and resentment moved in quickly to try to make it seem as though none of the others had happened as Maka crossed her arms and turned her back.

"Fine, get up on your own." The whole show had taken place in just a mere moment and in that split second, the two had had their most honest conversation, spoken without a word. Before everything, Soul would have assumed she was mad and that she was irritable today and would have taken moderate care not to push her. In turn, this would ruin his own fun, forcing him to walk on eggshells that weren't there at all. He'd feel resentment at the loss of that fun and freedom and would end up annoyed and mad in the end. But she wasn't mad or irritable at all. She was shy at his attention and for the first time he had caught it.

Soul had come out of whatever nightmare had been before with the realization of his feelings and that time was far too short. The future wasn't guaranteed to anyone, not even the invincible young of Shinigami's army. Soul got up, brushing the wet sand from his red swimming trunks. The weapon camp and everything before had been some sort of hallucination from the heat. Maybe the result of some bad oyster? The how didn't matter, all that mattered was that it was gone. The pain was gone, the fear, the blood, the death and anxiety of it all was long gone. In its place was safe, warm sand and Maka.

"Sorry." Soul couldn't hide the chuckle from his voice as he walked up beside her. The waves rushed up and covered the tops of their feet, shifting the sand under them before Maka looked at him with that annoyed furrow of her brow and tiny angry pout on her lips. The slick, moist lips parted, ready to scold, but froze in mid word as he reached out and gently moved some of her wet bangs aside. The hint of a blush that developed on her cheeks made him smile. Maka quickly stepped back.

"What's gotten into you? You're acting really weird." Her words lacked strength in their faked annoyance and when Soul went to move back towards her, Maka quickly played off her embarrassed confusion by hurrying to go grab up their towels from the sand.

Happiness filled him and Soul stretched tall, glad to feel no pangs of pain or soreness as skin and muscle stretched and moved in the warmth of the sun. The mixture of the unique smell of the sea and the scent of the salty, golden beach fries on the nearby boardwalk enveloped him like the sounds. The gulls' call, the crashing waves, the chatter of happy and free people.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Maka called from the worn steps leading back to the boardwalk.

"Coming!"

All the colors of the rainbow arranged themselves into boardwalk stores, rides and umbrellas stretched wide between the endless blue of the sky and waves. A quick turn to a t shirt shop let him know, this was Ocean City, Maryland. Together, they rode all the rides the ocean playground had to offer. For a little bit they forgot about school and their duties and Soul was able to catch true, genuine smiles from Maka more than once. It seemed even she forgot about the notion of studying and actually enjoyed his company. As partners. As friends. For now at least.

The sun was beginning to set and the warmth from noon was fading into the breeziness of evening. It was just after their tenth game of skeet ball that both their stomachs gurgled in agreement that it was time for dinner. A little pizzeria was just next to the arcade.

The front was open, without windows or much of a wall to let in the fresh air and let out all the amazing smells the pizzeria had to offer. There was happy chatter within as customers enjoyed their food. They were quickly seated and still Soul was looking around, a look of happy appreciation on his face as he observed the pleasantness around him.

Today was perfect in every way, even if Soul couldn't recall what had happened before the wave had knocked him over. The hostess that seated them placed their drinks in front of them and let them know their waitress would be there in a moment. But Soul's thoughts were somewhere else. Sure the whole thing about the war had been some awful nightmare, but he was certain he really did care for Maka that way. He had to show it slowly though. If he moved too fast or without warning, she'd put distance between them like she had on the beach. Little nice things, small compliments would help ease things along. The thought of actually having simple movie nights on the couch, or maybe even being able to feel her rest her head on his chest like before...

"Hey, earth to Soul." Maka waved her hand in front of his face. "Were you even listening to me?"

"Sorry." He leaned forward and sipped his soda. Then suddenly, Soul became aware that she was looking, studying, appreciating his face while she thought he wasn't paying attention. He looked up at her only for Maka to quickly look away. Yeah. Today was perfect.

"Are you two ready to order?" Soul's smile faded as he looked up at the interrupting waitress. It was Amanda, from the place back home. Her hair was as straight and plain brown as he remembered. She was even wearing that same yellow uniform with the white apron.

"Large pizza please, half cheese, half pepperoni." Maka replied politely when all Soul could do was stare.

"No problem. I'll get that right out for you," Amanda smiled and left, leaving a twisted and sick feeling in Soul's stomach.

When he didn't pull his eyes off of her, Maka kicked him under the table, looking at him with real anger. "You're so gross, staring at a girl like that." He could see all the good connections they had made fading and could almost hear her thoughts. 'All men are pigs. Especially Soul.'

Slowly, Soul turned his eyes from Maka to the table across from them to find the same group of boys from Death City General High. All the joy and relief he had felt a moment before had disappeared, just like that.

There was no way Amanda could be here, just as those boys couldn't possibly be here across the country at a pizza shop at the same moment he and Maka were. It was impossible. Suddenly the smell of the pizza wasn't as wonderful, the chatter of the other customers less reassuring. The vibrancy of the colors faded and the sounds of the ocean dulled until even the gulls were little more than a whisper.

This wasn't real. As he stared at Maka's concerned expression across the table, Soul's eyes grew hot. She wasn't really here, with him, safe. His mind had made this up. _This_ was the dream. And just like that the magic had disappeared all together. The scene faded leaving him alone in the darkness. The moment the nothing had washed over him, Soul wondered if he could have stayed a little longer there if he had just accepted the lie. Would he have been happier? Would it have been the same?

No. This blackness was the truth. This loneliness was reality. This helplessness was all there was. Helpless to protect himself and helpless to protect Maka or little Amy or anyone at all. What was a weapon without hands to use him? He had been useless and alone before Maka, and useless and alone he was without her.

* * *

It became easier to walk now, Maka's shaking legs had gone numb once she'd passed the gate of the city. Like a prize catch, she was lead on that unforgiving rope through the desecrated streets of Death City. Where dry desert sand and earth had been was now blood splattered cobblestones. Where at one time there had been laughter, there was silence. Resting up against a house was the body of a classmate she didn't know, his still body no older than 16, bleeding out into the street. Gender didn't matter, there was a female teacher tangled and draped like a tattered rug over a pile of ruble. Homes were leveled, smoke filled the air and ash fell like gray-black snow. In the face of this, in her exhaustion and heartache, the numbness had spread over Maka like slowly rising water. Her resolve finally crumbled. Her hope had shattered, leaving her head hung as one numb foot stepped in front of the other.

This was best. It was good that Soul wasn't here, and for the first time Maka hoped he'd never return. She didn't want him to see their home so destroyed and wished him to stay in the safety of his camp. She also didn't want him to see her like this, dirty, bloody and defeated. From the beginning this was how it was going to end. There was no need for meisters without weapons, and without the weapons they had clung to, living would have been an unbearable burden. So this was good. This was the unchangeable end to the chain of events put into motion the moment Shinigami-sama had agreed to relinquish their other halves. Humans would find a way to use the weapons and have their wish to protect themselves from now on. She and the corpses in the streets were obsolete.

Soul would move on. He'd be happy. Some day, maybe, he'd even forget about her. It was only then that the tears slipped past her closed eyes. After all, she had treated Soul so poorly. She'd yelled at him, hit him, said so many things she regretted and wasted so many days being mad over nothing important. Yes. He'd lock away his memories of her for sure, along with all the memories of this dying city. But at least he would live. At least he'd get to go on with his life, meet new people, start over and grow. Where ever he was, he was safe. She could at least take joy in that much as her own time ticked on towards its end, one step at a time.

* * *

The sun had set over the horizon, the darkness sweeping over the empty desert that they were driving through and as Tsubaki held onto Black Star, her eyes had drifted upwards. The stars were vast, sparkling their diamond light in the hopeless emptiness of space. How could they shine like that? Separated from one another by uncountable miles, adrift in a sea of black, still they shimmered with radiant light.

Just like him...

Everything here on earth had grown so dark for so many people and even when Black Star was alone, he had kept his light. Like the sun, he had sustained her, pushing away the dark doubt of her recovery. It was strange, though. All that time with the both of them entrapped in silence and now they had nothing to say. Their friends were suffering, the world was counting on them and both had been locked in their own thoughts. Tsubaki's fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt a little tighter as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you." Her words were spoken softly near his ear, the only way they could be heard over the droning sound of the bike. The warmth of her cheek had brushed against his neck. They were such small words, so tiny in letters and syllables, but were so sweet coming from her. Her voice at all was precious now since Black Star had felt what it was like to not have it at all.

"It was nothing. It's my job to protect you." He said back with a chuckle. From the thankfulness of having her returned, a dark and selfish thought crossed his mind. They were together. They were safe with transportation and in a world that wouldn't know who or what they were in its chaos. It would be so easy to just slip away into the dark. Of course the thought was quickly cast aside, but he could almost hear Medusa's words. What did he owe them? For Tsubaki's safety, he'd do anything. What good would it be to regain her, only to possibly lose her again? What was just one more act of betrayal? Didn't they deserve to be happy?

"I remember everything you did for me." Tsubaki had said when a period of silence had again settled in and it had been her words that chased away the poisonous seeds of selfishness placed into his heart. Black Star swallowed the mixed emotions that Tsubaki's words brought. Embarrassment for the accidental kiss, pride for his hope and maturity, shame for his outrages...numbness towards his decision of betrayal. For the first time, Black Star simply didn't have anything to say, so Tsubaki continued.

"It meant everything to me. E-every little thing. I don't know how I could ever..." She trailed off and sobbed into the back of his shoulder. Black Star slowed the bike to a stop and slipped from its seat to look up at her, taking her hand.

"Hey hey, no crying ok? It was nothing for someone as big as me, so just forget it." His wide grin shook in the corners, hard for even him to hide behind such a big lie. It hadn't been nothing, it was easily the hardest thing he had ever had to endure, and to have her back now was so so much. This had been the first chance the two of them had had to really react together to the events that had happened. This should have been a time for honesty, for tears and laughter and possibly confessions. They _needed _it. But both of them knew that it couldn't happen. Not right now. Tsubaki nodded and wiped her eyes and Black Star stretched a bit to pat her head.

"We're probably pretty close by now, so no sad thoughts. We're going to go in there and bust everyone out so-" His words and thoughts disappeared the instant he felt her lean forward and kiss his cheek. All of it, every moment of suffering, every moment of loneliness and all the choices good and bad were worth it for just. That.

With joy and new found energy, he jumped back onto the bike and revved the engine, spinning sand and dirt as he took off with a loud "Yahoo!"

* * *

Where endless darkness had been, movement, noise and light rushed in overwhelming Soul. His head throbbed on the right side where a rubber bullet had put him out during the very short lived revolt. Down the makeshift streets of Nowhere, the captive citizens had been assembled in the largest opening at the foot of the research facility. Flood lights had been placed so that everyone could see and guards stood in lines to hold back the fearful and clamoring weapons who looked on. All of them were gathered around an improved stage made of wooden crates. One by one, weapons that had headed the revolt were lead out and lifted up onto this stage. A man in his thirties that had headed the attack on the cafeteria building. A young woman who had lead the effort against the shower building. As two men dragged Soul from the building, his eyes tried to focus, his mind trying to grasp what was going on. There were so many faces, all plastered with expressions of fear, sadness and grief. The two men pulled him roughly by the arms, lifting the still dazed teenager to the stage and forcing him into a kneeling position.

Out walked what one could only surmise was the captain, his uniform much more showy with little metal pins. In one hand he had a pistol, in the other a megaphone. He was in his late thirties, perhaps forties with a worn face and blank expression.

"So, you all thought you could just over throw my camp." He shouted into the device at the forced audience before chuckling. "Well next time you will have to plan a little longer and not pick children to head your attack!" He pointed at the stage. "You all disgust me. And your efforts were wasted. The witches have taken the city. You would have been too late anyway, surely all your technicians are dead."

"That's not true!" The captive man on the stage had shouted. "They're soldiers. Survivors! There's no way they'd be taken that easily! They're alive! They're-"

The sound of the gunshot echoed off of the enclosed walls of the city, almost drowning out the sound of the man collapsing to the side. The captain's hand was still holding the gun out when the crowd screamed. They panicked and the guards had to press hard into them to keep the masses back. The young woman left kneeling next to Soul began to wail.

"Shut up! All of you!" The captain yelled into the megaphone before shooting rounds off into the air. The crowd stopped in fear of being fired upon, left with no choice but to helplessly watch. "This is your fault, their deaths are your doing!" He pointed the gun out at the watching weapons. "If you had just stayed in your homes, they wouldn't have been so brave. They would have gone back to their rooms too! But no! You agreed, you rallied behind them and now look!"

On cue, guards shoved the dead thirty something weapon from the stage, his head rolling to the side to clearly show the new hole above his temple. "Yes, their deaths are on your hands."

The plural of death finally chased away the dazed wheeling of Soul's mind. This was reality, the dream of the warm beach was gone. The woman next to him was still crying and the captain turned to look up at her with fake sympathy.

"I know it's scary, sweetie. You're so young, so far from home. All you wanted was to save your family and friends. I understand." He walked up to the edge of the stage, looking up at her. "You know what, maybe I should just let you go. After all, what can you do now that your technician is dead and your city destroyed? What can you hope for now?"

The woman sniffled and blinked away her last tears before rage filled her expression. Fearlessly she stared him in his eyes and said clearly "Revenge."

The captain frowned, put the barrel of his gun to her forehead and without pity pulled the trigger. As the woman collapsed backwards his eyes then fell on Soul.

"I remember your examination." He waved the gun at him. "It's such a shame, _such a shame_ you decided to do this. Do you know how special, _how rare_ your type is? God, this feels a lot like killing a poor little dodo bird or something. You've probably never even been with a woman. It's sad. I really truly feel for you, boy. But I have an important job to do. I have over a thousand mustangs here I've got to break. I need to show them that they can't get away with this shit. You understand? Age, sex, race, type, whatever, I WON'T HAVE LITTLE PUNKS COMING IN AND KILLING MY MEN, RALLYING MY PRISONERS AND PISSING ALL OVER MY AUTHORITY!"

Soul swallowed, his eyes looking from the two dead weapons before looking at the captain. They had died in ways that refused to let this man steal their courage and hope. He had wanted to be the one to set everyone free. He had wanted so much to go back, find Maka...see her again, for real this time. But things were the way they were and cool guys...well, they always made a cool exit.

As the captain readied his shot, Soul sat up, head held high, chest out. With a deep breath he spoke loudly so that everyone could hear. "I am Soul Evans, student of Shibusen and weapon of Maka Albarn. We stand for the forces of good and to protect that and my meister I'm ready to die." It had been a statement he had said so many times, but now...it felt kind of calming. The looks of sadness on the faces of those in the crowd had changed to awe and inspiration. They wouldn't be broken so easily, just as Shibusen wasn't made of its leader or the pairs of the students within, but the hearts of those who understood that it took the risk of life to protect life and did so without fear.

"Oh since you're ready then I won't feel so bad." The captain smiled. "I'm sure you'll find your meister in hell." And just like that, the man pulled the trigger. Funny... it didn't even hurt.

* * *

Night had found Maka in isolation. Somehow she had survived the pain of walking, the heartache of defeat and the death of everything she had known. Without food or water, her head was fuzzy. She felt feverish, chilled by the air in her small cell. Despite the bodies at the front of the city, most technicians had been captured like she had, and brought to the cells deep under their own school. Good was imprisoned behind the bars meant to hold in evil and the world had turned upside down.

In the haze between consciousness and sleep, Maka had little to hold onto. She had escaped into the thought of Soul's safety for most of the day. She had tried to stay thankful that he'd be able to live, move on... But, in the end selfishness rolled back in, washing away her selfless hopes and replacing them with lonely, frantic thoughts and desires. God, what she'd give to hear the words she had stopped him from saying before he left. They could have fought the collection agents. They could have escaped into the darkness of the night. But they had followed orders because things could never have gotten this bad. It would work out, because their leader had said so. But he was gone, it was all gone.

It would be easy, in this weak state, to just give up. If they were going to be killed, why not just do it? Why let her sit in this cell with all her lonely memories and regrets? Maka slid across the cold stone wall until she laid on her side. She had tried so hard, worked sohard.

Until the very end of everything.

Finally, after days and hours of grieving, it was over. Things were the way they were. That one fact covered over the pain. There was no sense in regretting their choices. There was just the now and the choices in front of her and for the first time in what seemed forever, Maka's assertive logical mind took over. Yes, things were awful! Yes, she could possibly die here. Sure she may never see him again, the witches may take over the world. But what was she doing about it _now_? Would she just lay here and let the exhaustion take her? Allow herself to be executed by the witches? Would she let them get away with every single horrible thing they'd done? If she just died here without a struggle, then how could she say she deserved to be a Shibusen meister at all? If Maka could stand up, stand for what she knew to be right, _what she had dedicated her young life to_, then surely her life and death would have meaning.

Her hands pressed against the unforgiving stones of the floor, lifting her lead-heavy upper body. This strength was not born from the naive notions of immortality in youth, for Maka had now come to grips with her mortality and its possible quick end. Again, Maka slipped her right leg under herself, fighting against the gravity of the floor in the shadows of the darkness. This courage was not based in the presence of her friends, because in truth the mere thought of them fought away the darkness of fear within her. Using the wall for support, Maka's fingers dug into the bricks and cringed in pain as she pulled herself up. This fight was not rooted in the presence of her organization, for what was Shibusen but those who believed in the protection of the weak? Not made from any of these, standing from the edge of abandonment, the well trained solider returned.

Quickly, Maka tore the bottom of her shirt and wrapped it around her wounded thigh. Eyes closed, she ordered her thoughts, again placing them in the organized manner she had had before. Any ideas of surrender, death or pain had no place in her mind right now. Right now there was just the beating of her heart, the breath in her lungs. As long as they were still there, she'd fight. Once calm and order had been restored, she took a few long breaths, focusing her soul perception to what and who was around her.

Close to her were at least ten other technicians in cells like her own. Three witches were patrolling the hallway and in addition to their magic, each also held some wooden staffs for defense, offense, or flight if necessary. A plan quickly formed in Maka's mind.

A rabbit themed witch paused just outside of Maka's cell. There lay the prisoner not moving and not breathing. "Hey, I think this one's dead."

"You have to check to make sure." Her duck co-worker called. "Just check for a pulse through the bars."

"I can't, she's too far in." The rabbit looked unsure.

"Just go in. If she's dead or dying you'll be fine." The duck-witch turned and kept patrolling. Rabbit-witch hesitated before finding her keys and slowly entering Maka's cell.

"Hey, get up, you!" She took her staff and held it out, poking Maka's body in the ribs from a safe distance. When she didn't stir, Rabbit sighed in relief and walked over and knelt down next to her. No sooner had she touched Maka's neck did Maka turn, loosened brick in hand, and smashed it hard into the witch's face, not even allowing her the opportunity to scream. Five more good slams with the brick, the poor rabbit witch lay there unmoving with no discernible face, her purple soul relinquished.

Oh, if she had time, Maka might have been shocked by how easy that had been. After all, class made the whole thing seem so hard! And where was Soul in a time like this? Here was a tasty witch's soul for him—but there wasn't time for that. Quickly, Maka grabbed the keys and the wooden staff and walked out of the cell. Poor duck-witch didn't have a chance. The staff was wielded with such expert precision and years of experience. It might not be a proper replacement for Soul, but it was the memory of his resonance she was drawing from. She could almost feel the proper weight in her hands as she rushed the third unlucky witch from behind.

Quickly, Maka unlocked the cells of the stunned technicians. Eleven strong, she lead them onwards with her head held high. If this was the end, the witches and everyone else would remember Shibusen and the invincible mortal youth that had comprised it.

* * *

The sound of the gun was so loud that that alone had seemed to steal the air from Soul's lungs. Instead of the darkness of oblivion or the blinding light of heaven, there was the sound of chaos as the captain fell to his knees. His shot had missed, flying wildly to the far right when the blade of a chain scythe had buried itself deep into his chest. With everyone's attention on the execution, it had been too easy for Black Star to scale the outer wall and jump from rooftop to rooftop.

"Bow down all of you!" Black Star shouted from his perch atop the research facility. "I the great Black Star have come to save you!"

Soul could have laughed but the ensuing movement of guards turning all their attention to Black Star had Soul rolling from the stage and rushing off into the surging people. If Black Star was here, maybe Maka was too! The idea of that was enough to push away the annoying pangs of discomfort still throbbing from the welt on his head or the soreness of his limbs. With the captain dead, the guards were unsure what to focus on: the rouge technician picking them off quicker than they were prepared for, or the crowd of weapons beginning to revolt against them all over.

"Soul! Are you ok?" Patty rushed over to him followed closely behind by the young weapon she had picked for the first revolt. The poor red headed teen kept looking one way and then the other, fidgeting, fidgeting, fidgeting.

"Yeah," Soul ran a hand through his hair and looked at the swirling chaos around them as it hit him that it really could have ended. If Black Star was a second slower...he quickly looked back to Patty. "This is our chance. I need you to go and make some large scale distractions."

"Yes sir!" She saluted with a smile before looking at the guy next to her. "C'mon, Pete!"

"Are you sure it's a good idea?"

"You wanna live in this dump forever?" She held out her hand. He sighed and transformed not just into her hand but onto her back. Soul took a step back as Patty cackled with excitement, holding her brand new flame thrower. She then turned and disappeared into the crowd. It was only moments later that smoke began to roll from the side of the cafeteria building.

There hadn't been a strategic meeting, but the plan seemed clear enough between Soul, Black Star and Patty. Black Star was to help the other weapons take out the guards still in the clearing as well as those that ran from the burning buildings. Patty was in charge of the pyrotechnics, and Soul headed right back into the halls of the research facility. He had to find the control room that so that he could open the gates to the camp, and if he could, find where they may be holding the deathscythes. He hadn't seen Maka out in the fray so he assumed she was still back in the city helping to protect the humans there, and if he came home without her dad, well, he'd end up getting more than a Maka-chop, that was for sure.

* * *

They were thirty strong now, slinking down the hallways in the underbelly of the school, following behind Maka and relaying every signal she made down the line. Her wounds and loneliness were long forgotten like the disabled, gagged, bound or dead witches behind them. A line of captives meant for execution had again taken their place as executioners in the face of remarkable odds. Maka finally opened the last door, the dawning sun's light flooding through the hallway. The entrance was well hidden in the back of the school in the base, emptying out into an alley.

"All of you, move out and wait on the perimeter." Maka ordered. "If and when our weapons return, they'll need your help to get into the city. If things go wrong, it will be easy for you to escape into the desert. The world will need some of us to survive since they'll need the leadership and skills we posses. Someone will need to remember what happened here."

And like that, she stepped aside and allowed the freed technicians to leave. Looking to a nearby stairwell, Maka's thoughts turned towards a different rescue mission. Kid was up there somewhere and in the upcoming clash of properly armed technicians and witches, they'd need his power. Besides, if any of her friends truly needed help right now, it was him.

**A/N**: This is not where I had wanted to stop this chapter, but sadly I can not afford more time to work on it until after Tsubasacon. Please think of this as a mini-chapter to help tide you over until then! If you're in the Huntington, West Virginia area, please stop by the convention on the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of October! I'll be there, selling art in the Artist Alley!


	13. Suspiria

A/N: I am so sorry it's taken so long to get the next chapter out for Beloved. Now that everything's coming to a head, I wanted to really map out the events and make sure it's the best I could make it. As most of you know, I pick a song to help represent the chapter. **I highly suggest you listen to the chosen song Suspiria for this one**. If for nothing else but this opening scene.

* * *

**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter 13**

* * *

The unseen insanity flowed over Stein like a river current as he passed the threshold of the Death Room. His intentions of buying the students time or perhaps managing to weaken the daunting entity within were washing away. Or perhaps it had been his already existing insanity that had caused him to open the door and enter in the first place. Regardless, it was clear now that he was drowning, swept into the undertow. Where there had once been wide, open space and a guillotine walkway, was now a narrow pathway made of black, slick, snake-like tendrils trembling and crawling against one another, pulsing with each foot fall he made. The air was one thick, almost physical, tangible wavelength, distorted and oh so perverse.

The tunnel became narrower and narrower and the unseen light source was quickly fading as Stein waded further inside. The moving organic walls slipped over his stitched skin, chilling his flesh. One or two contacts soon turned into constant entanglement as the walls closed in with less than two feet clearance between. Like little headless snakes, or perhaps like little slippery tongues, the tendrils brushed over his face and whispered words he simply couldn't decipher. Pressing through them like a crowd, Stein could hardly breathe, his feet drawn to go forward despite his growing desire to stop and turn around. The wiggling, squirming, slimy little creatures were everywhere, to the point that there was no way to know if he was going straight, to the right or to the left. They were below and above, now. No light, just whispering, tasting, slithering. He was being swallowed.

Yet, it was warm here. There was a strange sense of oneness. He belonged here, like a key to a lock, sutured into the maddening quivering blackness. When had he last felt this? When had he belonged? The squirming mass pulsated into him. _This was it_. They pressed again. _This was his real home._ Then all at once they peeled away revealing blinding light.

Where the organic madness had been was now a wooded park and _her._

Long, straight, ever perfect pale blonde hair fluttered in the sweet-smelling air. Her back ridged, locked in self confidence, arms crossed over her modest chest she stood there, her back turned to him. Her back was always turned to him. Yellow blouse, white pencil skirt she stood among the spring greens. Back turned, that untouched, unmarked back. It needed to be marked. Her outward flawlessness had to be tarnished or threaten to derange them all, and if she was going to stand there with her back as her front, Stein would have no problem starting there.

Did she think he wasn't worth looking at? Was it his scars or was it that he was in the way? His hand gripped the handle of the ever-present scalpel in his lab coat pocket as he stepped forward through the grass. Perhaps if he could make her innocent, perfect exterior match her selfish insides then maybe Spirit would understand. Maybe that idiot would have a chance. Maybe if she had scars like him, Spirit would think of him. Think of him when he was holding her hand. Think of him when they'd make love.

Selfish, so selfish, how could something that vile _work? _What about her made everyone love her? He'd love to peel away the outer trappings of her angelic exterior and let free the bugs and snakes he knew resided underneath. Would her screams sound like angels or would they sound like the last squeal of a lab rat? Would her blood even be red, or perhaps some other color that a goddess like her would display?

What if he _claimed _her? Would it mark her like him? Would people skirt away from her then? Would it ruin the illusion, and would Spirit rethink his decisions?

He was almost upon her, the scalpel glinting happily in the sunlight. Just one pass, one slice and there'd be no stopping. He wanted to paint the grass red, dress the trees like Christmas time with her organic garland. However, like every time before, like every time after, she turned, those green eyes burning into him with that stern, accusing gaze. Slowly, Kami turned only half way. Only halfway acknowledging him with her perfect body.

"Can you blame Spirit for leaving you? Honestly?" Her words were like honey, even when they were cutting deep. "You're lucky he chose to humor you at all. I hope you'll find someone that will take you, I really do. I sure would hate to have to take your soul later, Stein. I don't know if he'd be able to eat it." And then she laughed, she _laughed._ "I wouldn't want him to get sick."

At once he tackled her to the ground, straddling her hips in the grass. That surprised, slightly frightened look on her face, it caused him to pause. Her long perfect hair had fallen into disarray around her head. Her pale skin, so smooth, so soft. This angel was everything he'd never have: a woman's attention, her desire. This monster was everything he had lost. His one true friend. The only person too stupid to stay away, the only one who had shown him kindness and she had taken him. Stein raised his scalpel, choosing what pretty feature to remove first. Without trying, she had lured Spirit away and that same stupidity that had held Spirit to him was the same stupidity that fell for this. _This._ THIS!

She raised her arms then, one hand touching his that held his scalpel high and her fingertips traced over his knuckles delicately before running her index finger down the razor edge. Her blood dripped red, smearing the silver of the blade. The other hand had rested on his chest, feminine fingers lightly clutching the fabric. Without a hint of pain in her suddenly warm, caring, almost _loving_ expression, Kami moved her bleeding finger and gently pressed it against his lips.

"I'm just like you. I'm a person. I bleed and cry. I have hopes and dreams, just like you." She whispered.

Stein's face flinched at her words, an unstoppable twitch of sorts and he lowered the blade.

"You're like me?"

"Yes." Sweetly.

"A person?"

"Yes." Patiently.

"With hopes and dreams?"

"Yes. Let's work together, as friends." Earnestly, with a smile.

Stein leaned down, his forehead almost brushing with hers as he blocked out all of the light on her perfect face. "If you're like me, then neither of us deserve to live. Let's die together." A wide distorted grin spread across his face. "As friends."

Before her full lips could spout any more lies, Stein wrapped his hands around her delicate neck and squeezed. This method reflected his rage. Blades and scalpels were too impersonal for her. No, he'd _feel_ her life slip from the tight muscles, veins and tendons in his hands. Her hand fumbled in the grass and finally found his scalpel, thrusting it into Stein's side again and again as she struggled under him for breath.

The glorious friction she was providing, the satisfying gasps she was making, the way her lips were turning blue, Stein could hardly contain himself as he continued to squeeze. The pain of her slowing jabs only thrilled him more. All he could do was laugh as Kami's struggles began to die down. Her white skirt was spattered with his blood and smeared with grass stains. Her shirt had become wrinkled and skewed. Her shoes had come off in her wiggling and tore up the grass at her heels. And her eyes. Those emerald green eyes just stared up at him dully as her blue lips hung slack and parted.

Strange, how much better she looked this way.

Now. Now she was just like him.

Softly, Stein moved some of her hair from her face before standing, not feeling the wounds in his side as he took in the angel that remained under him. The moment he closed his eyes, she was gone, along with the grass and trees. In their place, the familiar emptiness of his classroom.

Well, it wasn't entirely empty. Sitting there, studying at her seat sat Maka.

The child had inherited almost all of her mother's evils when it came to personality. She gathered the respect and love of the other school officials as easily as Kami had and ruthlessly clawed her way to the top of the class, offering that innocent, proud smile to all her on-lookers. And her perverse scythe obsession, it slimmed his stomach to think about. Her mother had cruelly withheld some of her beauty from the girl, as if exacting her revenge on the child for bothering Kami with her presence at such a young age.

She was a poor soul and Stein had true sympathy for Maka. They both should have never been born. He walked from the door of the classroom to the steps leading up to where she remained sitting, reading. The poor girl worked so hard, so very hard to reach her parent's glory, never truly living a life of her own. Such a plain girl. Like him, so easily overlooked, only called on in emergencies. Only wanted for their skills and nothing more. Did she know what real joy was? Had she ever been a child at all?

When he stopped next to her, Maka looked up at him and offered a friendly smile. That same sort of smile that could tear apart partnerships and earn trust from the insane. Inside of her, Stein could almost feel the pain she was feeling. Betrayed and abandoned by Spirit as well, this poor little girl still found some way to smile. Pressured to live up to her mother's unfeeling expectations, the sacrifice of Maka's innocence and the reddening of her hands in pre-kishin blood. He could feel it choking him.

How could she smile? How could she come to school and carry this burden?

"Aren't you tired?" Stein smiled and patted her head.

"Not really." But she yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Ok, maybe just a bit."

"You don't have to work any more. You've done enough."

"Professor Stein?" Maka blinked and looked up at him, but his response was to again pat her head gently, running his hand over the smooth tautness of her hair before grasping one of her pigtails. Just as when he had first met her, he had wanted to dissect her out of bitterness, but now...now this was just pity. Using her hair as a handle he dug his fingers into the gathering at the scalp and smashed Maka's face down onto the writing ledge.

This was mercy.

She screamed in pain, her hands raising to clutch at his wrist.

He couldn't stand to see her suffer. Again, he smashed her face into her desk, blood smearing onto her text book and notes. He couldn't let her go on to meet a fate like his. A tool for Shibusen, easily forgotten. Easily exploited. This was better for her. This was better.

Maka tried to stand or fall from her seat, but his grip kept her in place. She was crying, but still he brought her head down again.

"It's ok. You don't have to fight anymore. You get an A+ for effort."

Even after he had brought her head down again, Maka still struggled, but sluggishly.

"S...Soul..."

Stein's fingers released her and Maka fell from the seat panting and coughing up blood and broken teeth.

"He's going to leave you, you know that."

Somehow, _somehow_ she lifted her head and looked at him, her face smeared with blood, nose clearly broken. From somewhere the girl managed to glare at him with her mother's eyes before muttering a gargled but stern: "Soul isn't Papa."

No. No, he and Maka weren't the same. Here Stein was trying to help her, he had even forgiven her for being from that monster of a woman and here this arrogant child was, practically spitting in his face.

"Soul may not be your father," He pressed the toe of his shoe against her side. "But you're _just_ like your mother." With that said, he kicked her swiftly in the ribs, sending Maka rolling down the classroom steps. End over end she tumbled, hitting her already injured head and cracking new bones until a final thud ushered in new silence.

She remained there, still and tangled in her own limbs. Slowly, Stein stepped down to the next step, careful not to tread where her blood seeped into the nooks and scratches on the classroom stairs. She looked like a doll, discarded.

Discarded like he had been by society at large, only useful to Death.

Discarded like she had been by her parents. Like she would have been by her weapon eventually. It was the appropriate end for people like them.

At the bottom of the steps, he scooped up the girl's body and brought her to the table where he had dissected so many creatures for the students. He removed his lab coat and wiped the blood from her face and carefully shifted her nose into the proper place. What was a proper study of the perfect student? Would the other students benefit from a proper lecture and dissection? No, he had promised her that she could rest, and making her work as a specimen would be going against his promise.

Let the child sleep, returned to her innocence, finally allowed some peace.

It was then he felt two arms wrap around his neck from behind in an embrace. The smooth feminine limbs were dotted with two interlocking snakes on both arms chasing and wrapping around one another on her olive skin.

"She looks so much happier now." Her voice was so smooth, the sweet warmth of her breath near his ear. Who she was, was just a little out of his mental reasoning at the moment. It didn't matter, she felt safe, right.

"She is."

"Don't you want to be happy?" One hand lifted to run soft fingertips along the curve of his screw. "I could make you happy."

* * *

Outside of his madness, Stein's body was laying amidst the broken glass of the Shinigami Mirror. Resting, finally allowed some peace he laid there with much the same pathetic helplessness Maka had displayed in the man's delusion. The frightening power within him combined with his brilliance had scared those he cared for, just as the same people judged and feared Medusa's kind. While not hunted and killed without mercy, Stein was used and never allowed to expand to his true dangerous potential.

And he had slipped too easily into her coil. Had the world still held its order, he may have put up a fight. If she had simply relied on the influence of small snakes, the struggle for him would have went on and on. But she was beyond those little tricks. She was so much further than witch or woman.

Medusa was a goddess of power. Of insanity, and he had to have been insane to believe that he had a chance against her from the start. Or perhaps it was his hidden wish for the release of death. With only empty classrooms and silent laboratories to look forward to, when asked to mentor the child born from his partner's betrayal, how could anyone blame him? A death here, in a hopeless stand, would offer him some sort of final purpose. Whether or not he was aware of these thoughts when he entered didn't matter. Stein was hers now, to do with as she wished. To her right lay Kid still lost in unconsciousness. His thin body still draped in bloodied clothes and rested on his side on the heap of his father's cloak. The boy could sleep forever, as far as she was concerned. All that mattered was that the threat was gone. She had won.

Medusa's delicate fingers touched the cool surface of a shard of mirror, a pleasant grin sliding over her features as she recalled the wondrous sound it had made. In the smooth surface she could see the new creature she had become. Her cobra-hood lynch rope blonde hair had lengthened and coiled loosely around her waist. Two tattoo snakes entwined down both bare arms and four more made a circle on her back. Instead of her feet touching the cold glass ridden stone floor, stationary arrows appeared in the air for her feet to rest upon. She could expend more power towards her appearance, but Medusa had too many other things to concern herself with. Her plans had a few more stages left to see through.

Step by step, she hovered over the broken debris to the door and casually stepped into the quiet hallway of Shibusen. It was funny. No more anxiousness, no worries, just quiet with the muffled sounds of the last of the massacre happening outside. Medusa walked to a nearby window and looked down at the burning city. Ash floated by on the breeze and her kind flew by, claiming dominion over the home of their hunters. Her eyes were searching for one flying target in particular.

Crona finally appeared at the glass and Medusa lifted the pane to allow her child inside. "We've captured or killed all of the technicians." It said, eyes on the ground as Ragnarok withdrew himself from wings into his true form, huge and towering over the bent child's back. "All the humans are being held in the center of town. We're waiting for your orders."

"Yeah, with no help from this pathetic lump." A white and black fist hit Crona's head.

"Well done." The words instantly made Crona look up. It had never, ever, _ever_ heard those words from its mother. Not ever. But sure enough, Medusa stood there with a half amused expression on her lips. There wasn't the slightest hint of disappointment or anger at all!

"Really?" Both Crona and Ragnarok asked in unison.

"Yes, now come with me. There's something else I need from you." She lead Crona back to the Death Room and shut the door behind it. As soon as the door closed, something twisted in Crona's stomach, chasing away all feelings of accomplishment. Ragnarok quickly withdrew into Crona.

"As you know, I've taken it upon myself to become a Kishin." Medusa began, hands on Crona's shoulders from behind. "You weren't able to do anything I had asked of you. I'm really sorry I ever had you. No. I take that back. I was at least able to complete my research on Ragnarok through you."

"I-I-I-I can do better! I'll try harder!" Crona trembled in Medusa's hands so she dug her nails deeper into the child's shoulders.

"At what?" she chuckled. "I've done all the work. Now, I'm going to need to take your weapon back."

"You-you can't! I'll die!"

She pressed her cheek against Crona's and whispered "I know."

"I won't let you!" Crona pulled from Medusa and held out its hands, only to stare at the empty palms. "Ragnarok? S-stop playing around!"

He peeked his head out of Crona's shoulder. "It's over pip-squeek. You don't think you can actually take her on, do you?"

"You're just gunna l-let her kill me?" Tears rolled down Crona's cheeks.

"You were a lot of fun to push around, but I'm not gunna risk my life for ya."

Crona's legs gave out at that, falling to its knees amongst the splintered wood and bent metal of the destroyed guillotine walk way. No one loved Crona. The bunny wasn't the one that should have been killed, it should have been Crona all along. In death there'd be no more pain or loneliness. With a smile, Crona looked up at its mother and tilted its head with a tear-streaked smile.

"If I die easy, will I be a good child?"

Medusa's reply was to send a vector arrow through the child's midsection, severing the thin torso in half since Ragnarok had given up hope on his meister.

"Come, Ragnarok." She held out her hand and all the black blood that seeped from the still warm corpse formed into a sword in her hand. "As my own weapon, you will not say a word or appear when I have not called you. Understand?"

"Gotcha."

That said, Medusa opened her mouth and swallowed the sword whole. It was then she heard Kid shift in his sleep. Something was beginning to stir him.

* * *

Change. It was a word whispered somewhere in the distance of this sleeping nothingness. This darkness here had welcomed the failed prince with wide and open arms as if it was the home he was always meant for. It was quiet here, with endless balance, endless peace. No guilt and no regrets, no loneliness to haunt him. Kid held it to his breast, clinging to this sweet, precious oblivion. Yet, the whisper kept calling out. Change kept begging from the fuzzy edges of nowhere. Slowly, his lips parted, giving his response...

"Disconnect cleanly."

It was what he had been taught to do all his life. Disconnect. Withdraw. Double up inside until the world could no longer touch him. There was nothing the world could offer him anymore...

"You'll take...care of her, right?"

Kid felt the nothingness grow heavier at the memory of her very last words to him. She had counted on him, and yet, he had allowed Patty to go, as he had allowed Liz to fade away, and his father to collapse around him. Every promise made, every duty given, he had failed at each and every turn. Kid closed his eyes.

Yes, this was where he belonged.

It was then he felt fingers run through his hair, stroking the black and white strands and soothing the tension under his scalp. The gesture was too sweet, too kind to dare open his eyes and risk it disappearing. So instead, Kid tilted his head to let the soft fingertips have more access. Silence was broken by the soft clink of thin metal bracelets. The cool nothing turned into warm and the soft texture of worn denim against his cheek. The stale air turned into the sweet, familiar, calming scent of her.

"It wasn't your fault." Hearing Liz's words was a blessing but in the face of such a welcomed mercy, his first reflex was of pain, flinching under her fingers.

"Of course it was my fault. I should have been able to do something. Now everything is ruined."

"You mean your symmetry?" She removed her hand, taking with it the kindness and warmth it had provided. Kid lifted his head, sitting up.

"No! I'd never refer to something so petty at a time like this!" Liz smiled softly as his own words washed over himself.

"I'm sorry, can you say that again?" She giggled and cupped her ear. Kid crossed his arms like a spoiled child for a moment before his defensive pose softened in the light of dawning realization. Slowly, his eyes found their way back to her.

"You weren't just part of a set to me. At first..." His mind drifted back to that time so many years ago. He had been a insufferable child then. In light of all the events that had happened, his obsession with visual balance suddenly seemed so pointless. How could he have thought that the arrangement of vases could make any sort of positive influence on the world around him? It had been a selfish desire, clinging to a pleasant memory of his mother, an effort to show his understanding of balance to his father. A futile effort to make him feel as though he had any power at all.

"At first that was it," Kid continued, his voice quiet in the fear of breaking. "Please don't suggest that's all I care about now."

Liz reached out and patted his head before standing and offering him a hand to help him up. He looked at her fingers, the slick nail polish without a stray drop of red color on the perfectly shaped edges. In life, Liz had done everything possible to make herself acceptable to him, never wanting to be the cause of his tantrums. How many hours did she waste fretting about such trivial things for his sake? Her nails, her eyebrows, the part in her hair. So much time wasted, all for his own pathetic needs. Had she ever felt beautiful at all, or had his own obsessions instilled in her that constant notice of flaws?

Kid simply looked away from her hand before getting up on his own. He wasn't worthy to touch her, not even after death.

"Something on my hand?" Liz looked at her palm and Kid simply shook his head, looking ahead at the endless black.

"I'm trash, I don't deserve your help."

Sighing, Liz placed her hands on her hips. "And here I was thinking you had changed."

Changed? Had he? The soft warmth of her hand taking his stopped his thoughts as their fingers intertwined.

"You've changed." She whispered to him, feeling his hand tremble a bit at the bitter-sweetness of this interaction. The simple act of holding her hand was so intimate for someone so rarely touched skin to skin, her very presence overwhelming for someone so rarely, truly emotional and vulnerable. The fact remained that outside of this unconsciousness, Liz no longer existed. This would never happen in reality, hand in hand, together but separate, resonating all the same.

"You've grown." She whispered again. His gaze turned from the black to the warm peach color of her bare shoulder, the crimson of her top, the strong sandstone of her hair to the soulful blue of her eyes.

"You're wrong." His voice betrayed him, trembling with each constricted beat of his heart. "I've failed to do anything but allow everything to fall apart." His life had been shattered like his father's mirror and gold misted over as he tried to push the images away. "I've never progressed. I'm still a child unable to stop anything-"

Kid's rambling was stopped when Liz placed her free index finger on his lips. "Stop. Just listen, for once." She swallowed, her eyes falling on his lips and she replaced her index finger for her thumb, gently brushing over them. "Now is the time for your awakening."

"My awakening?" It was possible that Liz was simply speaking of returning to consciousness, but somehow that didn't seem likely. He watched her take a deep breath and remove her hand from his cheek.

With hands at her sides, Liz stepped back from him and with her head held high said proudly "For so long, I had thought my life was pointless. Now I see that my whole point to living was to die."

"If I ever made you feel that way I apologize!" Kid reached out for her hand, but Liz moved from his touch.

"No. You never did. What I mean is this change inside of you is so important. You understand now what it is like to live. All these feelings you feel, regret, disappointment, need, grief, they're mortal emotions and in the world that's out there right now, there will be millions of people who will feel the same way as you. You've come to see that things aren't as easy as names on your father's list and real balance doesn't come from straight picture frames. Helping you become who you're meant to be is the best purpose of all."

"You shouldn't have had to die for my growth!" Unable to hold back the tears, they fell freely over his pale cheeks. "You didn't deserve to...not like that. Not for me."

"What do you know about what I deserve?" She asked softly, quietly. "I have killed people when Patty and I lived on the streets. I betrayed peoples' kindness. I stole. I sold myself if I had to. I did drugs. I could have left Patty in the care of social workers. She could have had a good home, with a good family somewhere but I selfishly kept her with me. And she suffered. She was cold and hungry because I didn't want to be alone."

Her voice broke, but Liz kept her head high. "When we first met, I had planed to take advantage of your kindness. We were maybe days away from joining the names on Shibusen's target list, but instead you found us. You took us in and didn't ask for money or sex. For the things I've done, I deserve much more than just death. Most of all, I didn't deserve you."

Kid was speechless and wiped at his face with feelings of shame. "It doesn't change how I feel."

"How do you feel?"

Her question went without an answer as Kid bowed his head. His chest ached at all these feelings and in their current overwhelming tide, it was hard to give them any sort of description. Only one word came to mind.

"Regretful."

"What do you regret?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" Liz asked and Kid nodded. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes looked up at her through his messy bangs. "I don't understand."

Slowly, Liz stepped closer and gently tilted his chin up. "You have to sort through these things to grow. If you don't, then there's no hope for the future. Do you understand just how important you are? Do you know who you are?" When his eyes welled with fresh tears Liz kissed his forehead.

"This was always meant to happen, Kid. The moment you over looked two street walkers' pasts and accepted them into your heart, you became the only one who could bring true balance to the world. My place in all of this is more than I could ask for and in order for my part to be complete, we have to move through this together. Now, tell me what you regret."

"I-I..." He was just trying to keep air in his lungs, and at this point trying to look strong was pointless. Then again, with Liz, he never had to try to be perfect around her. She had seen him break over his obsessions, she had carried him, cared for him. This was a safe place, inside of himself, in her arms. All at once, Kid allowed himself to spill his heart as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I regret forcing you to take part in my obsession. I'm so sorry for the stress it caused you. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel a-any less beautiful than you are. I regret that I forced you into situations that scared you. I regret that I would embarrass you at times with my behavior. I regret that I yelled at you over little, petty things. I regret that I never truly shared much of my inner thoughts, or my past with you. I regret limiting your self expression in your appearance and I regret being so distant even-even though you showed time and again that I could trust you. I regret going to Russia, I regret not b...being able to do anything. I regret...I regret...not knowing h-how to express...just how important you are...were to me. I regret not telling you that I..."

Liz opened her mouth to say something further, but there was a sudden cold wetness that slipped across her midsection. Before Kid was aware of what was going on, she had been pulled backwards from his arms by a tendril of the same surrounding darkness.

"Liz!" He grabbed her hand, desperate to keep hold and she in return held onto his wrist.

"Kid, what's-" A lump of the darkness rose up behind him, a tall blob before the black slid away like slime, revealing black, shining hair; pale, beautiful features; and a long, slender neck. From the darkness she raised black-dripping arms and wrapped them around Kid's chest.

"Shhh, let her go, baby." Her piercing blue eyes stayed focused on Liz, a smirk on her features. "You shouldn't be speaking to ghosts."

His grip on Liz almost failed at the sound of her voice. There was no mistaking that soft, comforting, honey sweet tone. The darkness had slithered up, covering most of Liz's legs now, still trying to pull her away.

"Kid, Kid listen to me!" Liz called, holding onto his arm with both of hers. "When you get out of here, you have to remember us! Remember me and Patty and Black Star and Soul when you have to put the world together again. Promise you'll remember!"

The woman behind Kid caressed his cheek. "Don't listen to her foolishness. She doesn't know anything about us."

And between them, Kid remained paralyzed. Unable to let Liz go in fear of losing her for good, unable to fight against the hold of...of...

"Listen to your mother and let her go. Don't be selfish, let her move on. You can't hold onto her forever."

Liz cried out in pain as the blackness pulled her harder around her stomach. "Kid, just promise and then you can let go."

"No!" With one foot forward, he pulled against the arms of his mother. "I won't lose you again. I couldn't protect your body, but I can at least protect your soul!"

"If you won't give her up, then the darkness will dissolve her." His mother whispered near his ear. "You know how fragile souls are in environments they're not supposed to endure."

Inky black tendrils slithered up Liz's body, along her neck and in her hair till they began to push at her lips that she now kept shut tight. With her hands still clutching Kid's arm, she couldn't stop them as the slimy little creatures headed towards her nose, eyes and ears.

"Let her go. She's a mortal, you have to let go."

So this was their fate. The two of them together for a short time, only to be ripped away by a darkness that had no interest in swallowing him. Only her. Always her. As painful as it was, one way or another, he'd have to let her go. With how she was being pulled and covered, it was possible her soul could be damaged, torn or destroyed. He watched Liz flinch and shake her head as the darkness crawled over her features.

"I-" This was it. After this, he'd truly be alone. "I promise I'll remember."

Liz let go with one hand and wiped her face off, a sudden tug from behind almost stealing the grip from her other hand. "Remember, we all believe in you. I believe in the god you'll become." Fresh tears welled in his eyes and she just shook her head. "Don't make such a sad face. One last smile, for me?"

Somehow he managed to pull the corners of his lips up into a smile. "Thank you." Kid lifted his chin. "For everything."

With that, Liz let go, her hand slipping from his. "See you later, cowboy." And then she was gone, swallowed into the darkness.

"My poor baby," the woman behind him coo'd, stroking his hair. "It's ok now. You did the right thing. Now, come and rest with your mother. Come and rest with your father. We can be a family together again."

* * *

Outside of his unconsciousness, Medusa studied the pink soul in hand. So much fuss over one girl. It had taken a lot of pulling, but she had finally removed the nuisance that was trying to wake up her victory snack. Once she had proper control over the city and world there after, Medusa would take the time to truly savor the taste of the last Shinigami's soul. Until then, it was best he just remained in this state of slumber. It would be a shame if he woke and she'd be forced to take his soul earlier than she planned.

But what to do with this girl's soul? Obviously she meant a great deal to the sleeping lump of a boy. She could be useful later. A small incantation allowed Medusa to open a small rift in space and slip Liz's soul inside for safe keeping.

One distraction taken care of, another on the way. Medusa could feel Maka making her way towards the Death Room, now pressing into her field of influence. While the girl held anti-insanity properties, her fatigue and physical injuries were letting in little whispers of darkness and Medusa could feel it, as if her own fingers were digging through the cracks in her shield. Still, it had to be dealt with.

"Stein," he sat up at her calling. "I have an errand I think you may enjoy."

* * *

Maka could hardly catch her breath before the next witch volleyed another magical attack her way that twisted the metal lockers and pulled up tiles. She had only managed to dodge the attack by throwing herself into an unlocked classroom. Her staff that she had used before had long since broken in half leaving her with just two long wooden stakes. There had been a moment of quiet once the spell had run its course down the hall, leaving Maka with just the sound of her own exhaled breath. Her left leg ached dully, the pain stifled by the adrenalin running through her veins. The new minor gashes and cuts she had earned on her way here had stopped bleeding, but left her clothes torn and bloody.

She glanced up at the ceiling, her back pressed against the wall next to the door's handle. What was today? A Saturday? Normally she and Soul would watch a movie on TV while eating dinner and he'd complain about having to do the dishes. If they were getting along well that day, they might even go for a ride after that. She'd hold onto him, safe to blush behind his back. The click of the door opening and the screech of the dying witch didn't even jar Maka from her day dream. Her body had moved on its own, prepared with a stake for the unsuspecting witch's chest as soon as she stepped inside. Maybe they'd even go get ice cream and Soul would make some sort of crack about how she needed to eat more ice cream so she wouldn't be so scrawny. That jerk.

It was only when she jerked the spike back that Maka blinked back into the situation at hand. The witch collapsed at her feet and cautiously, she stepped over her and headed out into the hallway, leaving bloody foot prints behind. The Death Room was just up ahead, but the air was different here. Thicker somehow. The smell made her swallow hard to get the taste out of her mouth. The odor rested somewhere between mildew and sweat. When the sound of footsteps appeared behind her, Maka paused.

"Murderer." The word was slurred and distorted, followed by the sound of liquid spilling onto the floor. Slowly, Maka turned to see the witch she had just killed, standing there with a gaping hole in her chest, blood sliding from the corner of her frowning lips. Behind her walked the others Maka had slain on the way with their various head injuries and wide, open wounds.

"This has to be an illusion." Maka said, but still took a step backwards. The witches she had killed today were joined by the faces of pre-kishins she and Soul had taken out in the past. The hallway was full, the crowd advancing towards her over and past the twisted debris of the lockers and classroom doors and windows.

"Murderer. Slay those you're told. Wash your hands in false holy water. They're never clean. Never clean. Murderer killing innocents, claiming them the criminals. Never clean. Never clean."

Maka took another step back before closing her eyes. "You're not real. You're-"

Her words cut short when she felt her back hit something warm and firm. Before she could turn her head to see who it was, two hands moved and covered her eyes.

"Guess who."

Stein's whispered voice relieved Maka, the sudden overwhelming push of his distorted wavelength panicked her. Before Maka could slip from his grip, the professor sent a soul pulse through her closed eyes. It wasn't enough to kill her, oh no, that would be too easy. He wanted to play with her first. As she screamed in pain he could only laugh.

When the surge was over, Maka fell to her knees, holding her eyes. The world seemed to have tumbled over and over its self amongst the pain and deafening ringing. When she removed her hands, all she could see was white. Endless, searing white. All she could hear was ringing and his laughter. Maka scrambled up onto her feet and staggered forward, trying to desperately put space between herself and him. He watched with amusement as Maka ran ahead and then stumbled on a broken section of the floor.

"Where are you going?" The lockers had been destroyed by the last witch she had killed, the floor was torn and uneven. There was nothing to guide her down the hall. Still, Maka struggled back to her feet and rushed ahead until she slammed against the hallway's end and began to follow the wall to the right.

"There's nowhere for you to run to." She struggled to get away, further through the milky whiteness without a plan, without of any hope of defending herself. "You can't even hide. You know you can't hide, you know very well." He laughed, especially as Maka stumbled on a piece of ruble. "I can see your soul! Can you see mine? No! No you can't! You can't see anything! Now you're not special, not like your mother, not like me, you're not even fit to be a meister anymore! Stop fighting! Just accept it."

Maka stumbled again, but this time because the torn and tired muscles in her left leg ceased up, sending her crashing onto the floor. Again, for just a moment there was just the sound of her exhale.

"I'm offering you rest. Just rest. The humans wanted to arm themselves. Let them! Hahaha! L-Let them all die by the hands of witches! We can rest. Let me show you peace."

Maka took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out before turning her head, her red, swollen eyes looking up at him. Right now there was just white, but when she tried, despite the initial shock of pain, soul perception switched the white to black. This form of sight relied partly on her vision, but partly on her soul. There in the black was the fuzzy, swimming haze of his soul. Where characteristics and personalities would be clear, there was just a smudge of color and light. Knowing it rested in the man's chest was all she needed before bringing her right leg up to kick the man in the gut. Imagining the rest of his body, she was able to follow it with a kick to the groin. Stein instantly doubled over onto the floor and Maka stood, frowning down at him.

"I can see your soul too."

There were just two choices. She could try to kill him now that he was in a vulnerable state of pain, but... He was still Professor Stein. She couldn't kill him. Without being able to see her surroundings there was no way for her to bind him or lock him somewhere. The only option was to get a head start and find a place to hide where he may not be able to find her.

With a deep breath, Maka rushed off into the black nothing.

* * *

It was over. In Soul's arms was the tired body of a little girl as the both of them watched the fires consume their prison. There was no recalling this declaration of war. Around them simply lay the desert horizon and a world that smoldered like Nowhere.

"What now, Mr. Soul?" Amy's small voice asked, her soot streaked cheeks turning to him. The fire danced in the reflection of his red eyes and for a moment he didn't answer. What _could_ be next? Her tiny fists clenched the fabric of his shirt and his eyes finally looked at her sweet, innocent face.

"We move on." Soul's voice betrayed his own fatigue as he put the girl down with the other gathered children. Like before, the children and elderly would be kept back as the other weapons went ahead to Death City. The adults assigned to watch and protect the little ones were currently loading them into vans.

"Be good and listen to the grown ups."

Amy hugged his leg, burying her face into the denim of his pants and Soul knelt on one knee, stroking her tangled hair. "You'll be ok." It was strange, how this child had somehow given him strength. He had known her for only a few days, but she was precious now, a small symbol of all that was still worth fighting for.

"I want you to stay." She sniffled.

"I can't. There are people who need me and the others right now. People like your mommy and my friends. What I need you to do is to be a hero for me, ok? Keep your eyes and ears open for bad guys when you're with everyone else. Stay brave and let everyone know it's going to be ok." Soul wiped the tears and soot from her round cheeks. "Can you do that?"

She nodded and he picked her up into a hug. "I know you can."

"Thank you, Mr. Soul." Amy whispered before he shifted her over to the arms of one of the young women loading the children into the vans.

"Goodbye, Amy." The small girl waved as she was carried into the vehicle and Soul hardly noticed when Black Star put a hand on his shoulder.

"If you ever wanna have one of your own, we better get going."

They had found a supply cargo truck tall enough for them to stand in with room for them to sit. The metal would help protect them from any attacks that might happen. It hurried towards Death City, leading the small army of other vehicles of the other freed weapons who chose to return and fight. Two weapons from the camp drove as tired quietness filled the space in the back between Soul, Black Star, Tsubaki, Patty and her new weapon Pete. Beside Soul lay Spirit. He had found his meister's father in the research facility shortly after finding the control room. He had been locked in a room much like the one Soul had shared with little Amy. A bed, four walls and little else. Spirit was unconscious when he found him, and he remained that way still.

Across from him, Tsubaki was laying with her head in Black Star's lap. How lucky. Despite being thankful that his friend had pulled through, Soul couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Somehow they had managed to keep a firm grasp of one another in the turbulence. To top it off, Black Star hadn't mentioned Maka at all. He just sat here, one hand on Tsubaki's shoulder, his eyes closed with his head leaning back on the metal wall of the cargo truck.

"Hey Black Star." Soul nudged his friend's foot with his own until he peeked open one drowsy eye.

"What?" Black Star kept his voice quiet from tiredness, and his desire to let Tsubaki sleep at least for a little while longer.

"Maka..." Soul suddenly was worried for the answer. "She was ok when you left, right?"

Black Star closed his eye and took in a deep breath before sitting up a bit more. How could he tell Soul? What was the best way to tell him not to keep his hopes up?

"Black Star, c'mon, stop playing around. She was fine, right?" Soul leaned forward when he still hadn't replied.

"She was alive." Was Black Star's reply, finally opening his eyes. His words twisted Soul's stomach and he brought a hand to his mouth in frustration and a sudden wave of illness. If Maka...if she was gone, then what was the point? What would any of this suffering mean?

"We took your bike," Black Star continued when he saw the panic beginning to build behind Soul's eyes. "Maka was driving and Tsubaki and I were on defense. We managed to smash through the witches' front, but an attack from behind flipped the bike. She couldn't get up."

He just stared at him in disbelief. "So where is she?" She wasn't here, they weren't going towards any side goal where they may have dropped her off to wait. No...they couldn't have left her bleeding, helpless, wounded, dirty and abandoned.

"You didn't leave her there did you?" Soul's voice was raised in growing panic and Black Star placed his hand over Tsubaki's ear.

"We didn't have a choice."

"Of course you had a choice!" Soul moved away from the wall of the truck, "She couldn't get up and you left her there in the middle of an army of witches?" If it had been anyone else, the news may have had a less violent effect on him, but Black Star? His friend, his brother in times of danger had left the most important person to him there to die?

Black Star frowned. How could Soul just attack him? He had no idea what kind of hell he had been through. "If we didn't, we wouldn't have gotten away and you'd have a bullet in your face right now, so you should be thanking me!"

Tsubaki sat up at that point, moving out of the way just in time as Soul grabbed his friend's shirt and jerked him to his feet. "She'd never have left you behind. You were scared so you just took the bike and left!"

"Hey! I'm not a coward!" Black Star pushed Soul off, sending him onto his backside.

"It's easy to say 'we had no choice' because it wasn't _your partner_," Soul frowned. Soul's words had felt like a back hand to his face. Black Star gritted his teeth, fists clenched and face red with anger.

"You have no idea what kind of hell I went through to keep Tsubaki. You weren't there. None of you were there, none of you helped. You didn't care if she lived or died. You don't know what I had to do-"

"Just what _was_ that?" Soul stood again. "How _did_ you manage to wake her up?"

"Please stop!" Tsubaki begged, tugging on Black Star's pant leg only to be ignored.

Soul pressed closer to Black Star, chests practically flushed against one another as both exchanged glares. "If she dies, it'll be all your fault and I'll _never_ forgive you."

"Who the hell are you to talk to ME like that? I'm the damn hero here! I saved you when we could have just taken off into the night!"

"Yeah, you could have run like a coward!"

Black Star's jab to Soul's jaw was quick, and in his angry and exhausted state, Soul simply couldn't dodge in time. It sent him staggering back a step or two which served enough room for his own wind-up, returning the blow to Black Star's face.

It wasn't true anger, no, there were far too many emotions here to label it as simple anger. Soul truly didn't know what Black Star had gone through, just as Black Star couldn't understand what it was Soul had endured. Soul hadn't seen the city surrounded by witches. He hadn't seen the terrified expressions on Maka and Stein's faces when they had reached the Death Room. Soul could never comprehend his decisions.

Black Star would never know what it was like to be treated as an object. He wouldn't understand what it would be like to be forcefully separated from his home and partner. It had been over a day since they had slept and perhaps as long since they had had a decent meal. There was fear also, of what awaited them, of the fate of their city and those they had known.

But none of that could easily be vocalized, so they spoke in blows. Black Star's frustration, his shaken loyalty, Soul's fear and desperation traded back and forth with knuckles.

"Enough!" Patty yelled, pulling Soul backwards. "We need to be a team right now if we're going to help anyone! You guys are best friends!"

Tsubaki took the opportunity to slip in front of Black Star. "Soul, Maka asked us to go. We tried to help her." The breaking in Tsubaki's voice quickly dulled Soul's anger. He hadn't thought that his accusations against Black Star would fall on her as well. "We didn't want to leave her, I swear."

"You don't have to explain anything to him." Black Star frowned, putting a hand on her shoulder. "That's the last favor we do for him."

Tsubaki shrugged his hand off and stepped ahead to take Soul's hand in both of hers, not bothering to wipe at the tears welling in her eyes. "Maka was our friend too. If there had been any way to bring her, we would have but we had to choose. If we were caught, then we wouldn't be able to help free everyone. There'd be no one left to fight against the witches. She wanted to make sure that you'd be safe and free. You know if we had been a moment later-" She shook her head unable to say it. "Please don't be mad at Black Star. He won't say it but he needs your support right now. We all have to support one another!"

"Besides," Patty patted Soul's shoulder. "You know Maka. What's some thousand or so witches to her? I'm sure she's just fine kicking butt as we speak, waiting for you to get your lazy butt back home."

Dullness had washed over Soul and where anger and frustration had been, the ache of loneliness and the feeling of helplessness resided. Despite all that they had been through, the good they had done, the suffering they had endured, there was a real danger that it was too late. There was nothing he could do now. She might be gone before he got there and his best efforts would still have been for nothing. In the warmth that surrounded him in the kind, sympathetic gazes of his friends Soul felt his walls tremble.

After a pause, he sat down and looked away to the truck's ceiling, his eyes blurring with oncoming tears. "Fine. It's just..."

"_Maka, I-"_

That brief night, the short-lived morning could be all they had together.

"_Tell me when you get back."_

They had tried so hard.

At that moment he broke. Shamefully, Soul covered his face and surrendered to the tiredness and all the pent up emotions. Patty sat next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, urging him to lean against her as he cried. Tsubaki moved to his other side, rubbing his back and Black Star crossed his arms turning away.

Soul had started the fight and now all the girls were petting him like some poor lost puppy just because he got a little teary eyed...But the anger soon faded and he glanced back. He had never seen Soul cry and it eased his shoulders down from their hunched position. It just proved how much things had changed.

His attention turned then to Patty who was busy whispering reassuring words to Soul. Out of all of them, Patty had the most right to cry and carry on, yet here she was breaking up the fights and supporting them. Suddenly his own troubles and burdens seemed so small and he felt ashamed of his actions. It was twice as bothersome as the throbbing in his face from Soul's punches.

Black Star squatted down and put a firm hand on Soul's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

None of them deserved any of this.

* * *

In the cab of the truck, the two middle aged weapons driving had decided to kill the quiet with a little music. Surfing over the static and commercials, a news broadcast caught their attention.

"-lexi Mirkov has disappeared after his admittance to his part in the massacre of over 500 innocent people that helped begin the weapon confiscation movement in most major nations. This statement was made in response to the surprise witch attack on Death City, home and headquarters of the now disbanded Shibusen. In Mirkov's statement, he explained that his co-conspirator, a witch, had used his organization's message to help set the events in motion that would lead to the disarmament of Shibusen. His current location is un-"

The radio was cut short as the weapon in the passenger seat hit the dash when the truck stopped suddenly. The other dozens of vehicles from Nowhere all pulled to a stop in front of the line of black armored trucks.

Patty was the first one out of the back when they had stopped. She knew this, after all they had been in a truck much like that one in Russia when things had gone wrong, so her boots hit the dusty desert dirt prepared to fight. Pete slipped cautiously after her, followed by the others. Next to them, the other vehicles were doing the same, expecting a human force coming to intercept them and force them back into captivity.

The humans who stood by their vehicles were armed with weapons, all of which were hard to tell if they were natural born or synthetic. None showed any signs of emotion as the tired, betrayed weapons gathered in front of them, stretching into a wall of their own. Both sides prepared to fight on the parched earth.

In the gap between the two forces, Black Star stepped forward. With all the anger he could muster, he bellowed "Who is your leader?"

And the line of humans parted and a man stepped forward, but Black Star hadn't had a chance to see his face. In an instant, Patty had dashed forward, jumped, leap-frogged off Black Star's shoulders and landed a flying punch to Alexi's face. The man and girl both toppled into the dirt and now straddling him, she pulled back another fist.

"You killed my sister!" She sunk another blow to the man's jaw. Black Star, Soul and the others hurried around, humans making the other half of the circle around them. Patty raised a bloody and shaking fist. "All of this is your fault!" The sound of the weapons in human hands shifting, raising in aim at her caused Patty to pause, fist raised high in the air and tears in her eyes. Still, she did not remove her gaze from him. "Are you going to order them to execute me too?"

Her shoulders shook as her fist lowered slightly. "Are you going to shoot me without reason?" Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Are you going to kill me in front of the last people who love me?"

"I'm sorry." Alexi said under her, and Patty's reply was to open her fist and slap him across the face.

"You've destroyed everything good in all our lives. How dare you say you're sorry!"

Pete fidgeted. If they didn't do something, the humans might really shoot Patty. He moved to reach her, but Tsubaki touched his shoulder and shook her head. It might be too tempting for Patty's current weapon to reach her, who knew if she'd use him on Alexi. So in his stead, Tsubaki moved forward.

"Patty, this won't help."

"She dived in to save me and they pinned Kid down and made him watch. When Liz came up for air, they..." Patty turned, looking up at Tsubaki. "And I was in resonance with her, _my sister_, I felt it. Every hit. And Kid. If you could have heard his screams and cries..." Her anger returned as she glared down at Alexi. "And then he tricked us and made us do horrible, horrible things and made Kid think all of this was his fault when all he ever wanted to do was protect everyone! If it wasn't for this monster we would all be home right now!"

The tension in the air tripled at that. Those in the group who didn't know of Alexi before suddenly wanted to be in Patty's position, able to destroy him if they so wished.

"You are right." Alexi said under her. "All of this is my fault." A cry to kill him came from some weapon further back in the crowd and soon clamored into a chorus. "Before you kill me, please allow me to explain. I have come here to meet you in the desert for a reason."

With hesitation, Patty turned to Tsubaki who helped her up off of him and Alexi stood and dusted dirt from his clothes before climbing onto a truck and accepting a megaphone from one the nearby humans.

"We have come here today to join you in your fight. It is true that because of me, things are as they are. My nation has a contract with Shibusen and each town and village must pay part of contract money to be protected. My village could hardly pay and many of my people grew hungry. We could not break our contract, there were witches near, but we could not protect ourselves without high grade weapons. We captured them at first since we could not pay. Then I met a woman named Medusa who offered to help. We planned the events, thinking it would be worth it if we could have a chance to save ourselves. Protect our own home and not have to pay so, so much. I did not know she was a witch. She used us to do this."

He took a deep breath, continuing. "I have told my government what I have done. I have explained it was not Shibusen's fault for the deaths, or the fault of the heir. I offer to you here one thousand men, ready to fight with you to reclaim your home, like how we had wanted to protect ours. In our hands are the last of our inventory of kidnapped weapons. Their bodies are here to help reclaim their home. There are another thousand coming in from the north to join the fight and your government has promised to allow more weapons to go to join as well. When it is over, I accept any punishment you have for me. Please understand this was not an act of hate. We just wanted to survive."

Murmers in the small army of weapons turned into a roar of discussion until Black Star jumped up onto the truck and took Alexi's megaphone.

"All of you be quiet. Listen up! I've seen the witch army myself, and we're gunna need all the help we can get."

"Shinigami-Sama's there, he'll help make a way!" A loud shout came over the crowd, which again ignited everyone there into shouts.

Black Star flinched and shook his head before yelling through the megaphone "No he's not! He's dead!" He regretted the words though as an instant silence fell on the crowd.

"What do you mean he's dead?" Patty asked, about ready to jump up on the vehicle too if Tsubaki wasn't holding her back. "What about Kid, is he ok? Black Star, what happened?"

She struggled forward, as though getting closer to Black Star would somehow make the answers clear. Shinigami-Sama was their leader, a symbol of who they were and what they stood for. Their symbol of victory. If their immortal god had fallen to this witch, how could they possibly hope? And if Kid...if he was hurt. If he was gone then there would truly be no hope left at all. Especially not for her. Patty would be orphaned for a second time. There'd be nothing to protect or to cheer up. There'd be no reason to smile or joke or giggle or sing.

With a deep breath, Black Star opened his mouth but stopped. He gazed out over the hundreds of weapons gathered, trying to find the words to explain to them...while trying to hide his own guilt or risk joining Alexi in his public execution.

"The witch Medusa that was really behind all of this managed to get into the Death Room before any of us could stop her."

"H-How could you know that?" Patty struggled still.

"Professor Stein and Maka were there and they saw it happen with perception. He's gone."

"But Kid! Is he-is he?"

"I don't know." He turned his attention from her to the crowd gathered. "But it shouldn't matter. Yea it's a little scary that we don't have the big ol' black and white zig-zag around to make it all better, but that doesn't mean we should give up! Even if Kid's...even if there aren't any more Shinigamis we're still just as strong as we were before and what we fight for isn't any different! Everyone we love back home is still in danger, so sitting here in the desert fighting over who caused what isn't helping anyone! I say we get our asses back in our cars and get the hell back on the road!"

"You sound awfully guilty." Alexi whispered to him. Black Star looked to the man with a strange mix of hate but understanding before shoving the megaphone back into his arms.

"We can talk about this after I save the day. Now get in your big fancy car and make your last stand."

Those gathered separated, weapons returning to their vehicles, humans to theirs. Tsubaki ushered Patti to Pete before waiting for Black Star. He looked down at her from the top of that car and knew, without a word shared between. The sorrowful look in her eyes told him everything, so he hung his head for a moment before leaping down from the truck and walked towards her.

"Black Star, I-" She had began but he held up a hand.

"Don't say it."

Tsubaki touched his up held hand before slipping her fingers through his, not paying any mind to the roughness of his skin. "No, we need to talk about this, at least just a little." She closed her eyes "I need to talk about this."

He sighed "What happened to him wasn't your fault. I made the choice to do what I did." When she opened her eyes again, slick with moisture, he wrapped his arms around her. "I would do anything to protect you. I'm not..." His voice cracked a bit, and Black Star quickly swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "I'm not one bit sorry."

Shinigami-Sama could have had him killed as a baby, assumed him to fall into the same destructive future as his clan. Shibusen had taken him in and spared him his life and gave him the teachings and opportunities to become what he was today. Without Shibusen he wouldn't have found Tsubaki in the first place. And he had had a hand in all of its undoing. His actions personally lead to the death of...

No, he shook his head. "We can talk about this when we get..." He trailed off. There wasn't a home to come back to. Their pictures, that cookbook filled with notes now written in both their hand writings, all of it had been lost in the fire. "When we're safe. Right now I have to stay focused. After all, Soul and the other idiots can't go into battle without Big Me, right?"

With a quick squeeze, Tsubaki let him go. "Ok. And thank you."

"No problem. Now let's go!" He took her hand to lead her back to their truck.

* * *

Back in Death City, Medusa chuckled. In her healing of Tsubaki, she had implanted a small snake, much like the ones in Eruka. She knew the position of the on coming weapon/human force and now could arrange a proper welcoming for their return.

"Good work, little weapon." She had personally seen Black Star's skill when he was fighting to prevent the girl's death, so having her pet take out Tsubaki would only make a fiercer opponent out of Black Star for her witches to attend to. No, she had a much better idea. A simple snap of her fingers echoed in the otherwise quiet Death Room.

* * *

They hadn't made it more than three steps back towards their truck when Tsubaki stumbled forward, her hand slipping from Black Star's before collapsing to the ground.

"Tsubaki!" Black Star fell to his knees next to her as Tsubaki curled into a ball, holding her chest. "What's wrong?"

"My-" Was all she could manage before another wave surged over her, causing her to curl up tighter.

Soul rushed to his side and quickly knelt down next to him. "C'mon, I'll help get her into the truck. We need to go."

"We're going to move you, you can squeeze my arm if it hurts." Black Star said to Tsubaki before wrapping his arm under her shoulders. Soul got her legs and together they rushed back into their cargo truck.

Inside, he had her lay down with her head in his lap. Tsubaki had relaxed a little but now and then would still flinch in pain. With great care, Black Star brushed her hair from her face, trying to keep the racing of his heart down. She was ok, they were going to be ok. This was nothing. She'd be ok. He didn't betray everything to get her back, only to have her die in his arms. Soul looked on and felt guilty for having felt jealousy towards the two of them still having one another. Now everyone truly was worried for their loved ones.

A quiet stirring noise stole Soul's attention. Spirit shifted before sitting up and stretched with a yawn as if nothing was going on. With a lazy hand, he scratched his head and rubbed his eyes. When the others came into view, Spirit blinked and rubbed his eyes again.

"Oh hey. What did I miss?"

"What did you miss?" Soul growled, glad the old pervert was up so he could let out some of his pent up anxiousness. "Just about everything!"

"Both of you, shut up." Black Star snapped. Tsubaki had flinched at every yell the others had made. "Keep it down."

"What's going on?" Spirit asked, looking from Black Star, back to Soul.

"Everything's gone to hell," Soul scratched his head. "Witches attacked Death City while we were held up in camps."

"Is that all?"

Both Soul and Black Star stared at him for a moment before saying in unison. "_Is that all_?"

Spirit simply shrugged. "It's not more than like ten, right? Maaba never seems to get anything together and-" His words were cut short as Soul grabbed the man's collar.

"Medusa, the nurse you used to make disgusting faces at was a witch, ok? She set this whole damn thing up and now we're heading back to try to fight an _army_ of witches under her rule, you got it?"

"But Shini-"

"He's dead." Soul let him go with a little push back against the wall of the truck. "We don't know if Kid is too and Maka's still in the city."

"Maka?" As if to see if Soul was telling the truth, Spirit looked around at the other occupants of the truck. "No! How much longer till we get there?"

"Who knows. She was captured by witches before Black Star was able to get to us, so..." Soul trailed off. This time it was Spirit who grabbed Soul by the collar and shook him violently.

"Don't you dare talk about my baby girl like that! She's fine!"

"I haven't given up hope either, so back off! Your breath smells!"

"If both of you don't keep it the fu-" A sudden impact to the side of the truck cut Black Star off. The passenger in the front opened a small sliding window in the wall dividing the cab from the cargo area.

"They must have known we were on the way. They've prepared a welcoming party. Everyone stay down!" There was a loud explosion as a vehicle near theirs burst into flames and blew apart.

Spirit got up and rushed to the window and stared through its small opening to see through the windshield the airborne division of witches throwing attacks at them from a safe distance.

"It's an army in the air..."

"I have an idea." Patty stood and then pointed at Spirit. "You! Cut a hole in the roof! Big enough to fit through!"

Wait, was a student giving him orders? He held up his hands. "We need cover from the attacks-"

"I SAID DO IT. DON'T ARGUE WITH ME!" He jumped at her mean voice and quickly did what she asked. "NOW GET ON ALL FOURS SO I CAN GET ON YOUR SHOULDERS!" Again, Spirit quickly did as told. Patty smiled and positioned herself just right and when Spirit stood she ducked low as to not go through the hole just yet. "Soul, can you hold his hips to keep him from falling?"

Soul grimaced at the idea of having to put his hands anywhere on Spirit's grimy body, but it couldn't be helped. Looking away, he gritted his teeth and held his hips.

"Alright! Now, Pete!"

"Me?" He asked, stuck in the far corner of the truck.

"Yep! Let's turn this cargo truck into a fire truck!" He smiled at that and rushed over, transforming into a flamethrower. Patty tightened her grip on him before sitting up, her chest above the edge of the hole.

"How about some fire, my pretties?" Patty cackled before shooting a stream of flames, catching an unsuspecting witch on fire. The stream extended a good four feet past the front of the truck "Burn! Burn! Mwahahaa!"

Other vehicles around them began to follow their lead, throwing any sort of airborne attack or gun fire that they could back at the flying horde. Still the witches were able to pick off one vehicle after the other.

"Patty, look." Pete called and she turned her gaze from the witches to the fast approching Death City. Many parts of the familiar sky line were missing. In the air fell ash and the smell of burning homes thickened the air. "It looks like snow."

"It's not. Now just keep up the heat! We're coming home!"

A wind witch flew up to Patty, blowing Pete's fire back at Patty who barely managed to dodge. She didn't even notice the burn on her right cheek from the close call. Instead Patty reached up and grabbed the witch's broom with one arm and pulled her closer before shooting Pete off right in her face. The weapon could feel his temporary meister's rage. Every bit of anger rolled through him as fire. Her worry kept his metal hot and her desire to protect whoever she had left behind made the stream wide and long. That last display, and when she had flying-attacked that Russian man had showed him that there was a lot more to the girl than her cute grinning exterior.

"We just got a call that there's rescued technicians waiting at the east gate." The driver shouted back at them as he maneuverer the truck around the burning debris of another vehicle. "They're going to have it open as long as they can, keep that fire going!"

Together, humans and weapons drove towards the east gate, held open by the technicians Maka had managed to free. Car after car sped past the gate and into the city.

"Drive us as close as you can to Shibusen!" Soul shouted to the driver as he helped Patty back down from the roof. No sooner had Patty ducked back inside and placed her boots back on the truck floor than the road bent suddenly, a wall of rubble blocking the way. It came up too suddenly and the truck smashed into it, sending everyone in the back tumbling forward. They'd only have a few seconds before they'd be swarmed by witches.

Soul opened his eyes to find Patty on top of him. "Hey get up, we-we have to move."

She groaned before opening her eyes. "Did we win?"

"Not yet. Grab Pete and go on. Kid's probably inside the school too."

"Oh right!" She perked her head up and grabbed Pete's wrist, pulling the still unconscious boy from the truck.

Soul then proceeded to dig his knuckles into Spirit's head. "Get up, old man, if you ever wanna see your daughter again!"

"Maka! Daddy's coming!" Spirit rushed out and Soul got up and hurried after him.

"Wait for me, stupid!"

Black Star gently shook Tsubaki's shoulder. "Hey can you get up?"

"Yes. I think so."

"Alright, just transform and let's go kick some witch ass."

She nodded and closed her eyes. When nothing happened a look of panic spread over her features. "I-I can't."

"You can't? Are you sure? Try again!" The driver and front passenger had left, their friends had left them alone, assuming Black Star and Tsubaki to just follow behind. There was the sound of a number of witches rushing towards the truck. If she couldn't change, there'd be no way for them to defend themselves.

Tsubaki just shook her head. "I can't. I'm sorry."

He paled but still took her hand and pulled her from the truck. "Alright, c'mon, I need to find a safe place for you to hide." Before she could argue with him, he pulled her into an alley and then into an empty house. "Stay here until I come for you."

"No!"

"Don't argue with me. This is probably the safest place for you right now."

"Black S-"

"No, you're staying here and that's final. Right now you're a little broken. I'm the boss and I said this is your place!"

It was a wonder how the sound of her slap across his face hadn't alerted the witches to their hiding spot. Black Star held his cheek and Tsubaki held her burning palm.

"I-I'm not broken." She fought back tears. "Even if I can't be your weapon, my place is here with you, by your side. Please don't make me leave your stage. I want to see you _shine_." One tear rolled down her cheek. "If this is the last act, let's bow out together. Please don't discard me."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I could never discard you. I don't even know what that means." He half laughed before squeezing her.

"Weapon or not, I'm yours."

Her whispered words made him swallow. "Me...me too. Meister or not."

"Then let's go. Our friends are going to need our help. You can't expect Soul and the others to go into battle without Big You, do you?"

"You're right." He let go. "Let's find you a decent weapon."

Nearby was a shovel in the chaotic debris in the once beautiful living room. "Here. You can still change your mind."

"Nope." She smiled, taking the shovel. "I can't live all these years with someone as brave as you and hide when I should fight."

He returned the smile and grabbed a knife from the adjacent kitchen. "If you keep sweet talking me like that you might send a guy the wrong signals." He turned around to find her standing very close to him and before Black Star knew what was happening, she leaned down and kissed him, lips-to-lips. Even though it had been short, it set Black Star's face on fire.

"Wha..." He teetered to the side and she giggled and put a hand on his shoulder to stabilize him.

"We'll talk about it later, when we're safe."

* * *

**A/N: Ok, so recap:** Medusa is a Kishin-Witch-Queen and she has Stein under her control. Liz tried to get Kid to wake up and give him the keys to his awakening but was cut short when Medusa stepped in and pulled her away. She met up with Crona and reclaimed Ragnarok which therefore gives super evil Medusa all the powers Crona had such as flight, impenetrability, bloody needle, and all the sword attacks on top of her snakes and vector arrows. Stein is sent to fight Maka and uses soul pulse to temporarily blind her, but with the help of fuzzy soul perception, she's able to escape and hide for now.

Alexi admits his guilt to help the weapons fight Medusa, and his group, along with the kidnapped weapons they have, join the weapon resistance. On the way, Medusa ends Tsubaki's weapon status. They manage to again break the witch front and enter the city with the help of the freed technicians. Spirit, Soul, Patty and Pete rush off to the school and Black Star and Tsubaki argue about whether she can come or not. Some slapping, speech making and then kissing goes down before he allows her to join the fight.

Fun times indeed.


	14. Now Comes the Night

**Beloved Helpless**

**Chapter 14**

"Uh Patty, I don't know about this." He was overheating. Pete's whole being was hot, his metal, his soul, it was scorching and he was sure Patty's hands were probably burning at this point. They had tried to get to the school, but the route they'd taken ended up a dead end and by then Patty's friends had all gone their own way. They had torched three witches on their way here, but now, now it was bad. Another dead end blocked their way and five witches were preparing for a combined attack. There was nowhere to run.

"I'm not going to quit now." Patty panted, her seared hands shaking a bit from the adrenalin. "We should try."

"You don't mean re…resonance, do you? I'm already really hot, I don't want to-"

Patty tightened her grip on his handles. "I'm gunna hurt lots more when I'm dead so just stop yammering and do it!"

"I can't. I can't hurt you." Pete gave her an apologetic look from his reflection.

"You don't even know me! We just met, just do it!"

"It doesn't matter! I'm not that kind of person! I never hurt my meister no matter who they are, no matter what!"

"Stupid!" Patty rushed forward, prepared to just hit the witches with the flame thrower. "Sometimes you have to hurt people to protect someone!" She jumped to the right to barely avoid the glowing purple ball the five had prepared for her. The moment the attack sped past, Patty jumped from the rubble she had used for cover and managed to send one witch flying with a hit to the face with Pete and his scorching nozzle. Patty's proud grin didn't last, two magical attacks sent her back into the pile of rubble, hitting her back hard on broken stones.

"Patty! I'm sorry, I'll try harder!" Pete shifted out. "You're ok, right? Get up."

"You're not good. At fighting." She groaned, but her pained and annoyed expression turned wide eyed as she stared over his shoulder. "Pete, change back."

"They're behind me, aren't they?" He started to shake.

"If you wanna live, then change back, dummy! Don't you wanna live to see your real meister?" Pete switched then, but it was too late. The witches had already cast their spells. Patty screamed as she let out a burst of fire, the flames pushing the attack back in an explosion of light and heat. The heat was unbearable, and Patty could feel it prickle the skin along the outsides of her arms. Every second more excruciating than the last, still she pushed forward, yelling with all her might as she forced her rage, her determination, her will through Pete. It was enough, the attack dissipated before reaching her, but the flame thrower fell from Patty's shaking, scorched arms. She fell to her knees, staring wide eyed at the red and raw marks that coated her palms and down her arms. She couldn't even bend her fingers from the pain.

Pete shifted out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up. "You said you weren't going to give up! There was someone you wanted to protect!" Behind him, the witches readied another attack. "C'mon, Patty! We have to go!" She still wasn't moving and Pete closed his eyes knowing they had taken too long. It was too late to escape now.

"Hey you stupid witches!" The attack hadn't come, the four witches turning their heads instead to glare up at the blue haired boy on the nearby rooftop. "That's right, gaze upon my glory!" When one witch lobbed an attack at him, Black Star leaped from the roof, landing in front of one, flashing her a smile before sending her flying into a nearby wall. Tsubaki had snuck up on the others while Black Star had distracted them and with a shovel knocked out two. The remaining witch backed up before running as fast as she could from them.

"That's right! Run! I'll kill you later!" Hands on his hips, he let out a loud laugh as Tsubaki hurried over to where Pete was kneeling next to Patty.

"Patty, are you hurt?" It was a pointless question. Patty's cheeks were soaked with tears, partly from the pain, but more from the frustration that was clear on her face.

"I need to find Kid, I have to make sure he's ok! Now I-I..."

"It's going to be ok." Tsubaki stroked Patty's hair before pulling from a bag on her shoulder a medical kit. "This is from Alexi's group. Pete do you know how to wrap her arms?"

"Uh yeah, I think." The weapon was doing his best not to cry himself. Patty's burns were his fault, her tears were his fault.

"Watch me, just in case." Tsubaki opened the kit and opened a tube of ointment.

"You might not be able to go after Kid right now, but I know how you can still help." Black Star had perched himself on the top of the rubble pile they were in. "More humans are coming in from the north. We were going to go and kick the gate down, but you guys can do that now." Giving them the assignment meant that he and Tsubaki could go back to kicking ass.

"Yeah, however we can help." Pete nodded, rubbing at his eyes.

"No! I have to find Kid, I promised Liz I'd take care of him! I promised!" Patty jerked her arm away from Tsubaki, despite the pain. "I can't just sit at some gate!"

"You don't have to stay at the gate." Tsubaki sighed, her concern clear on her face. "You could just open it and leave, but there's no guarantee that witches won't see it open and close it again once you leave. If our reinforcements can't get into the city, no one's going to be able to help Kid."

Black Star looked away from the group, not wanting any guilt to show on his face and for a moment he wondered how Kid would react once they won. He'd probably have to leave for what he had done to Kid in order to save Tsubaki. Not that it mattered, it wasn't like he was a meister anymore.

"All this talking is getting annoying." Black Star jumped down. "Either you open the gate or you don't. It's your job now. C'mon, Tsubaki." His partner sighed and handed Pete the medical supplies with an apologetic look before picking up her shovel and walking to Black Star's side.

"Good luck, both of you." She smiled at them. They only got a few steps before Black Star stopped and pointed at Patty.

"You might not be able to fight how you want, but you're alive! Keep fighting until you're in the ground!"

Patty's angry expression softened at that as she really looked at them and noticed the knife in Black Star's belt and the shovel in Tsubaki's hands. He hadn't used her at all. Tsubaki had been feeling bad in the truck on the way to the city, could she have...? The encouraging smile on Tsubaki's face and the still hopeful look in her eyes seemed to confirm her worries. If they could still fight, she should try too.

With a deep breath, Patty puffed up her chest and nodded. "Patty will do her best!"

As they hurried back to the battle line, Black Star glanced up at the broken school. If he had a choice, he'd run right up there and take the witch head on, but it felt off. The timing wasn't right, the stage wasn't ready yet. Besides, those poor humans would be lost without his god-like leadership. Kicking in witch-faces was pretty damn fun too. Nothing wrong with having some fun before the real fight. Right?

* * *

Alexi groaned, slipping down a wall in the streets of Death City. His men had gone on without him, continuing his commands. They had pushed a good number of witches towards the south end of the city, along with the help of the weapons and a few lucky freed or rescued technicians. He, however, was out of luck. With no more ammunition and an injury across his midsection, it looked as though it was time for him to pay his due. All he had wanted was for his people to be safe and still have something to eat. He wanted to be stronger to protect them and had sold his soul to a witch instead. Hundreds dead, hundreds of lives destroyed and now all of this... he deserved much worse. To share the same dust as these innocent children fighting for their home, to have his blood mingle with theirs in the soil was too much of an honor. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, trying to summon the image of his village in his mind. It was comforting, as if the mere thought of home filled him with warmth, taking away the pain.

"Hurry up, Kim. There's more coming." The female voice caused Alexi to peek open an eye, and to his surprise there was a pink haired girl crouching beside him, her hands glowing. The taller dark haired girl behind her glanced over her shoulder at them. "That's good enough. We need to meet back up with Ox."

"Right." Kim went to stand, but Alexi grabbed her wrist.

"You are a witch."

Jackie was over Alexi in a moment, her hand transformed into the end of her lantern, flames licking the metal edge. "You better let go of her right now." Alexi did as told, the hand that had grabbed Kim now going to his midsection to find it healed.

"Yes, I'm a witch. But I'm a Shibusen student first." Kim rubbed her wrist.

"You don't need to explain anything to him. Come on." Jackie lowered her hand, beginning to walk away.

"You are a witch, but a Shibusen student as well? You kill your own kind?" Alexi sat up as Kim stepped back.

"Things are not that easy to define." There was a remorseful look on the girl's face. "I do what I think is best."

It was hard to tell if he could trust her. Yes, she did just heal him, but he had thought that Medusa was helping him as well before she turned on him. Still, he couldn't deny that he needed her. "My men need help. If you could, I would be glad."

"We were doing that already." Jackie frowned at him before taking Kim's hand, leading her away. As they were leaving, he could hear her say to Kim "I didn't like that guy."

"You don't like most army guys." Kim smiled back at her. Shibusen students were so strange.

* * *

It had only been a matter of time. Maka had done all she could to hide, evade, somehow find her way out of the school, but that hope was gone now. Stein had been toying with her from the start. He would let her get away, let her hide and rest for moment to just effortlessly find her again, chase her until she could no longer run. And then, when she had fallen, he'd punish her with his scalpel. This was the third round of this cat and mouse game and the cat was growing bored.

It was better without banter. He could concentrate on listening to her panting, her body's desperate breathing, her lungs clinging to each exchange in fear of their last breath. He could feel her pulse pounding loudly in her weakening wavelength, almost like an audible drum roll. Maka was such a bright girl after all. She must have known the game was over now. Her body knew it before he'd even done anything. It was so painfully alive he wondered how the girl could stand it and marveled at how she still somehow managed to struggle against his grip, an arm wrapped around her waist from behind.

"Professor Stein, please..."

"What is it that you want? Freedom?" He snickered at the word. "I can give you freedom."

The school stood tall and tattered over Soul and he paused for a moment to take it in. It wasn't as though he didn't think that the past events were real, but they suddenly had so much more gravity when such an icon laid in ruin.

"What are you doing?" Spirit pushed his shoulder, bringing Soul back from his thoughts. "We gotta get in there and find her, remember?"

"Yeah. I'm right behind you." They split up on the first floor. Even in the brokenness of their great school, it remained massive.

"I know you're still in there." Maka whispered. "I know you really don't want to do this." Stein tossed her hard to the floor and before Maka could scramble away, he straddled her hips and soul sutured her arms and legs to the floor.

"I had hoped for so much more fight from you."

"I know you can fight the insanity-" Maka's words were cut short as Stein sutured her mouth closed as well.

"Enough distractions." His broad, skilled hands pushed her torn and bloodied shirt up to her ribs. Such young, pale flesh. He only took it in for a moment before taking his blade and pressing it deep at her left side near her hip.

The halls were torn, vandalized and abandoned; and as Soul ran, he struggled to keep calm. The destruction lead to a broken stairwell that he half ran, half climbed up, traversing the shattered concrete and rebar. She had to be here, she had to be waiting somewhere. He pulled himself up to the second floor. These were the halls they had walked down, when the world still held some brightness. These were the halls that had given him purpose. This was the place they had shared and the memories blurred like ghosts over the torn doors and shards of glass and flickering lights.

He stopped suddenly after the next turn. The world stopped, his breath, his hearing, Soul's awareness ended at the edge of the pool of blood around her body. One, two, he held his eyes closed, praying on his pounding heart that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. When he dared to open them again, there Maka remained. She was on her side, one pigtail undone, leaving her hair to fall and shield her face from him. And there was blood. Thick, rich and dark around her still form.

Concrete limbs jerked, one knee lifted on its own accord and his breathless body moved closer. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. His mind couldn't recall the movements that took him to her, but the sudden impact of his knees with the broken tiles of the hallway somehow shook Soul from this stunned numbness. Slow motions turned into frantic movements as he pulled her into his arms. She was too cold, too still. This wasn't real.

The wound was deep on the side of her body, the blood a bit warmer than her skin. Brushing her hair from her crimson spattered cheek, Soul took a deep breath and studied her with watering eyes.

"Maka." A word whispered on the exhale of his breath. "Maka, please..." Words choked from a constricting throat. She didn't respond. She didn't move. With too much fear to describe, Soul pressed his fingers to her thin, pale neck. Weakly, her pulse pushed back and he let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

"Maka, c'mon, wake up." His words, she could hear them on the edge of the cold darkness. She wanted to open them, just to see if he was real. But she was tired. Maka had fought, and fought and fought. Rest would be ok. Rest was best. Besides...he probably wasn't real anyway.

Whatever arms she really was in squeezed her a little tighter. "Maka, please. Open your eyes." It sounded like him, it felt like him. But she was probably dying and the brain did funny things in these stages. But. If he was just a last effort for her mind to provide her some comfort, then surely if she opened her eyes, she'd see him. The pain of pulling her sore eyelids up made her cringe, but there over her was a sweet glowing light; warm and chasing away the darkness with its protective halo.

"Soul..?" When Maka reached out to take the orb into her hand, she felt her fingers touch the firm warmth of his chest. Those fingertips spread and moved up to find his neck, brush the strands of his hair and cup the tear soaked cheek she couldn't see.

"I-I'm so sorry. I should have gotten here faster. I could have tried harder." His voice, that terrible, broken sadness in his words. They weren't anything her brain could have conjured. This warmth of his body, the wetness of his tears, the strength of the arms that held her close. He was here, a moment too late and cruelly she couldn't even take in whatever pained expression was on his face. There was just the glow of his shuddering soul, flickering in her failing perception. And somehow she smiled, and injured eyes managed to gather moisture.

Her fingers trailed from his cheek to his frowning lips. "You're here. That's all...that matters. I am happy."

His hand touched hers and softly, Soul moved it away so as to whisper "I made it back, like I promised." Maka let out a small, weak gasp when she felt him lean down and kiss her cheek, then gently press his lips against hers.

_'Tell me when you get back.'_

"I love you."

Those words; so short, so simple in their composition. Words she thought would never be aimed at her, words she guessed she'd never be able to hear from his lips. The pain and tiredness disappeared then. Nothing else mattered and there was just him in all the fading world. Life and death had no meaning in the presence of those precious words and the light of his soul. Maka moved her lips to reply but the air, the strength wasn't there. There was just comforting warmth. Everything was ok. Her fight was over, he was there, Soul had come back. She was loved.

_...She was loved..._

"Maka?" She hadn't said anything in response and the soft brush of her exhaled breath had faded. Soul quickly sat upright to find her gazing at him with dull half closed eyes, a soft smile on her lips...her chest no longer rising.

"Maka!" He stood to his feet and turned around, running down the hall with her held tightly to him. But where could he go? What hope could he possibly find? Outside these halls was a crumbling city filled with witches and battles. There was no safe place. No medic. No help for the two trembling, failing young heroes.

He stumbled and again fell to his knees. "Someone help! Please!" His voice called out, desperation clear. Silence echoed back. Shaking, Soul glanced down at Maka; her soul had not yet emerged but it would only be moments. It was over. Everything that ever mattered was dying in his arms.

_Playing house was done. - It really was all just borrowed time._

"You're just going to give up?" The familiar snickering tone of the imp brought Soul's vision from his bleeding meister and the broken hall to the tiny black room within himself. He didn't have the strength to argue with the creature. Soul stood there, blank, broken, eyes locked on the black and white tile floor.

"You're not too smart, you know." The imp crossed his arms, looking up at Soul. "Black blood has a lot of benefits. With a bit of help from me, I could help you force one last resonance with her and the black sticky stuff can patch up all her holes." Rather than the normal instant retort that Soul usually offered, there was a small moment of silence between them. The small demon tilted one ear closer, waiting for a reply.

When Soul's answer was a quiet "Alright," it made the little monster's jaw drop slightly. Obviously he had misheard the insolent human, or maybe the boy didn't understand what was at stake here.

"Alright? Just _alright_? You know that favor you promised me before's gunna be upped to something big now, right? I don't work for free."

"Do what you want. Just save her." Soul's words lingered in the air, but he couldn't bring himself to regret them, or draw them back.

"Even if it's your soul I want?" The hungry grin the demon gave him still didn't phase Soul. All he could do was nod. The price had been obvious from the start, and yet, he'd pay it. For Maka, Soul would pay anything. The imp reached up a massive hand and patted Soul's back, laughter in its voice. "It was fun playing with you, boy. You put up a good fight. Just walk right that way and I'll take care of the rest." His long red finger pointed to the darkness in the back of the room that lay just past the glow of the candles on their long, bent staffs.

As Soul took his first step over the tiles, he paid no attention to how the demon was laughing behind him. Instead, he thought of music, a symphony, and tried to imagine what sort of melody his life would have amounted to if memories could be notes and years musical measures. As he walked past the piano, his fingers slid over the glossy, curved surface. He had traded all of his shame and regret for purpose and happiness with Maka. He had changed his loneliness into the friendships he had in Shibusen. In the end, hands that had struggled to compose held the hands of those that stood for something right.

It was a cool, short, unfinished symphony. Composed for just one girl.

The warm expansive dark contentment that Maka had found herself in before was pushed away in one shock wave of white light. All darkness was gone as it engulfed her. Tiredness and pain disappeared and strength returned to her limbs. Breath filled her lungs again and slowly, Maka opened her eyes to see the cracked ceiling of the hallway. Her hand raised and stretched in her clearing vision. It was then Maka sat up, catching Soul's shadow slip around the corner at the end of the hall.

"Soul?" There was no reply or returning footsteps. Without much trouble and without pain, Maka stood, too focused on following him to notice her new sight or the absence of her wounds. As she quickened her pace, the easy stride caught her attention. The colors and twisted forms of the lockers and debris around her was clear in her sight. He had done this. He had healed her somehow. "Soul wait!" The corner was just a step ahead. When she'd turn it, he'd be there, just a bit ahead. He was back, she was ok, maybe things would work out after all.

But there was nothing. Around the corner was just an empty stretch of the school. Fine, if he was going to be stubborn and not wait, she could just use perception and figure out where he was going. It would be easy to feel his familiar presence. But there was nothing. She couldn't feel him. Not in the building. Not within the block. Not within the city. Soul was gone.

"That..." She leaned against the wall. "That can't be. I was sure..." The flicker of hope that had brought warmth to her cheeks vanished. She couldn't have imagined it. He had found her. He had held her in his arms. She felt his skin, his tears, his soul. She heard his words..._those_ words. She couldn't have possibly imagined it all, could she have? No. How else could she be alive right now? He _had _to have been there.

"Maka?" Spirit rushed over to her, alarmed by all the blood stains on her clothes. "Maka, are you alright?" He touched her shoulder and Maka's eyes met his, wide and wet.

"Papa, Soul was here, wasn't he? He came back with you, didn't he?" It wasn't quite the reaction he had expected from her, but just hearing her voice again brought a smile to his lips.

"Yeah, he should have come by this way already. You haven't bumped into one another?" Maka turned away then and began to jog down the hallway. "Wait, that's the wrong way!"

"I knew I saw him, I knew it. My perception must be off from everything. I should have guessed."

"Wait for Papa!"

"He's probably already on the ground floor by now. I gotta catch up. I gotta catch up." There was a window at the end of the hallway. That would be the fastest way. She grabbed a broken tile and threw it out the window before climbing onto the sill. "Soul wait up!"

Spirit grabbed her arm and jerked her off the window sill and into his arms. "Maka, what's gotten into you?" He flinched as she began to struggle in his grip, her hands clawing to grab the window again.

"I have to go, I have to catch up! He was here, he was here! Let go! I need to follow him!"

Spirit turned Maka to face him then, grasped her arms firmly and shook her. "Stop it! Throwing yourself out of a window's not going to help you catch anyone. You'll just end up dead." Her struggling stopped at that and he pulled his daughter to his chest. "I'm so glad that you're alright. Papa was so worried." Maka began coughing then, feeling something thick come up and sour her mouth with its bitter flavor and gritty texture. Her father let go enough to allow Maka to wipe her mouth and see the black smear left behind.

Black blood. Now she was certain Soul had truly been there. The need to throw herself out the window had calmed and with a thankful grin, Maka looked back up at her father. "Thank you, Papa. I need to go find Soul now."

"No, we're supposed to regroup. The human forces from the north should have gotten here by now-"

"I'm not coming, not without my weapon."

"Soul will show up. We have bigger objectives."

"Soul _is_ my objective." Her words were sharper than her glare. "I'm not joining any side without him. He's saved my life-"

"Maka now's not the time-"

"You don't understand! I was dead, I was on the floor, I was gone and he brought me back! Like before, he saved my life and I'm not just going to shrug it off and leave! I'm going to find him!" Spirit withdrew the hand he had meant to touch her shoulder. He recognized that fire in her eyes, it burned like her mother's, and there'd be no way to convince her otherwise.

With a deep breath, he sighed and stuffed his hands back into his pockets. "It's too dangerous for you to go alone."

"All this shouting. For such promising soldiers like the both of you, you're not that careful about giving away your location." Stein's menacing laughter that followed made both of the Albarns turn around in alarm. As Stein's laughter grew louder and distorted, he began to crank his screw, the ratcheting only adding to the growing tension. Maka could feel the shudder run through her father's soul.

"A-ah, Stein, good to see you're ok." Spirit began but Maka quickly nudged him.

"He's insane, Papa."

"Yeah, I can see. Maybe a bit more than usual."

"It's not nice to talk about someone as though they're not there." Stein let his hand fall from his screw. "What kind of example are you setting for your daughter?"

"He blinded me earlier and would have killed me if Soul hadn't come." Maka continued. Well, that changed everything. Spirit's fearful expression switched directly into anger. His hunched position shifted into one of authority with his chest puffed out, fists balled at his sides.

"You hurt my Maka and I can't forgive that, no matter who you are!"

"Oh good!" Stein laughed. "I'm glad. Don't hold back, I want to feel proud when I dissect your corpse."

That said, Spirit rushed forward, bladed arms gleaming. His training knew that Stein was now a threat that needed to be subdued or taken out, but...this was Stein. A friend, a partner in times of necessity. It shouldn't be like this. It helped that he knew Stein's fighting technique, he had seen all of his moves from every swung angle. As Stein moved to sweep Spirit's feet out from under him, the deathscythe jumped to avoid it. When Stein didn't follow the motion through and grabbed Spirit's throat instead, it was clear that things were different. Stein was so far gone, the technique was much more brutal.

Hand clasped tightly around Spirit's neck, he prepared a shock, but gave pause when Maka landed a kick to the man's back. Instead of losing his grip or falling forward, Stein hardly moved from the blow.

Instead he laughed and slowly turned to look at her from over his shoulder. "Is that the best my star pupil can do?" And before Maka could reply, Spirit's cry of pain followed along with the crackling of the soul pulse flowing directly through his neck.

"Papa!" There had to be a way out of this that didn't mean losing either of them. "Professor Stein, I know you're still there, you can stop this! You can fight back the insanity!"

Stein tossed Spirit away like a rag doll, turning all his attention to Maka. Still, she continued. "You taught us all to have the courage to fight, I know you can too. You don't want to hurt my dad. You two are friends! You were partners, you care about one anoth-" In her speech, Maka couldn't duck fast enough to avoid the backhand that sent her to the floor.

"Stupid child spouting nonsense about things she can't imagine. What do you know about me? About my past? Nothing. You just follow because you're told."

"That's not true." Maka wiped the blood from her split bottom lip. "We are sanity. We are light and I know there's still light and sanity in you."

It was enough of an opening. While Stein was busy with Maka, Spirit had struggled to his feet and rushed at the man's back with a blade ready. He could have run him through, but he hesitated and that hesitation allowed Stein to turn, grab Spirit's shirt and throw him at Maka. She moved out of the way, but just barely.

"I've wasted enough time on the both of you." Stein frowned. He approached and Maka stood. She had no other choice but to fight back, but there still had to be a way to reach him. Unarmed, however, she'd never find that way.

"Papa, transform."

"Wh..what?" He must have hit his head too hard, or the electric ringing in his ears was messing with him.

"Transform now! We have to fight." His baby girl, who months ago had hated his guts, wanted to wield him? She didn't have to ask twice.

Maka nearly dropped the weapon at first, Spirit was nothing like Soul who was light in her hands. He was heavy and his wavelength buzzed with static as she attempted to find a frequency they could meet on. And he was big, in physical form and the size of his soul. It would have overwhelmed her at once if she hadn't heard his encouraging voice.

"Don't worry, Papa's here. Just relax. You can do it." Locked away memories of him holding her as a small child, laughing, helping her learn to walk flashed back. _'It's ok, Papa's here. You can do it.' _

"Can you shorten? You're too big to wield in the hall." She asked, backing up from the still approaching Stein. Spirit's staff and blade shrunk to a much more manageable size. The moment the size change finished, Maka could feel it rise. Their desire to reach him, their desire to bring this whole nightmare to an end, their mourning, their fears, their pain matching up. She was _Maka Albarn,_ meister and daughter of the scythe. She had already been through hell. There was nothing left to fear.

"You've reached it." Stein's smile twisted. "The edge of sanity."

"We'll teeter off and bring you back with us!" Maka rushed forward, her grip sure on her weapon. For now, she steeled her thoughts on her target. It would be easy for her mind to wander to how she wished it was Soul in her hands, or the memory of all the pain Stein had already put her though.

Stein waited for them and easily dodged her upward swing. "So easy to read." He shook his head in disappointment. Focus filled Maka's being, eyes locked on his soul, her heart filled with anger. Anger towards all of this, rage for the death of the happy days before. Instead of allowing the black blood to finish leaving her system, it boiled the substance within her veins. It was never supposed to be like this and she'd give anything to make it right. _Anything _to return to how things were. Strength. She needed strength.

"Maka, duck!" Spirit had been alarmed by the dark coldness creeping his way from his daughter, but his alarm sparked when she stood there and took a hit from Stein. The open palm jab to the girl's jaw didn't even phase Maka, it had hardly even turned her face. In his surprise, Stein met her eyes and laughed, recognizing the madness beginning to cloud the spring green. His laughter was cut short when she swung Spirit's staff end against his ribs. Pain. It felt nice. He wanted more. To give, to receive, to spread!

Blow after blow was exchanged between the two and with each hit received or given, Maka was forgetting her objective. Instead of reaching him, she wanted him to feel her pain, her anger. Her world was gone, Soul was missing, she had nearly been killed and Stein had let it happen to some extent hadn't he? He was to blame. Even if just a bit, he was guilty and that deserved punishment. He deserved death. Her attacks were no longer with the cross side of Spirit's blade or staff but with the slick dark edge.

In her haze, Maka had become faster, better able to read his attacks. She was far more reckless and three times as ruthless. Spirit knew, he could feel the insanity creeping in over the wavelength. Stein had swung his hand out to grab the girl's throat and Maka had swung Spirit towards the man's chest when Spirit moved his torso from his blade and grabbed them both by the ear lobes.

"Enough! I WON'T lose you both!"

Stein's hand had grabbed Maka's throat, her free hand grabbing his wrist and in that moment, the three had become a ring. Her father's words, his fear and care coursing back through her, Maka gasped, feeling it clear the cloudiness from her thoughts. This was the moment. Closing her eyes, she initiated resonance with both. The connection sparked and fought before the world disappeared into unconsciousness. It was only three minutes later when Maka opened her eyes to find that her father and Stein were still in resonance.

"Papa?" She shook him but he didn't respond. Her perception let her see that their connection was helping. Stein's corruption was beginning to withdraw. For now, all Maka could do was sit and wait, one of their hands in hers.

* * *

This had gone on long enough. Snakes in select witches and those she had allowed to wander on their own were all reporting in the same results. The human forces were pushing her army to the south end of the city and those left in the school were failing to keep the captured meisters from escaping. Even Stein was failing at his order to destroy Maka and now she was armed with a deathscythe. At this rate-no. She would not progress this far only to lose. She'd suffer no further insult to her power.

The still form of the last Shinigami forgotten, Medusa stood from her throne and where her shadow fell, darkness spread. It crawled up the walls and across the floor, twisting and writhing its tendrils over every surface. Its inky grip slipped over Kid's sleeping body, engulfing the room as Medusa walked over the crumbled guillotines. The broken forms dissolved and disappeared under the black blanket. She'd erase every last bit of evidence of Shibusen, every hope of any sort of escape from her influence. At the edge of the room, Medusa paused, lips finally curling into a grin.

If they wanted death, if they wanted pain, Medusa would be more than happy to oblige. She'd kill every last one of them. Graceful fingers slipped up her inner arm before fingernails, painted black, slid back down, parting the soft flesh. A sweet gasp, a twitch of her lips and slowly Ragnarok was unsheathed from her arm. Unlike the blade that had been wielded by her child, this demon sword was the sort of black that seemed to command the light around it, swallowing color and hope. From its edge, the silent weapon continued to drip black blood upon the floor, only to expand and join the growing darkness behind her.

* * *

In the skies above the burning city, thick black clouds quickly gathered, blocking out the last hints of sunlight. The fires that still burned lit the streets as the battle continued. From their position on the city's wall at the north gate, Pete watched as magical attacks cast shadows and colored light, flashing and dying out like multicolored lightning bugs in the broken and jagged skyline.

"Hey Patty, do you think it's going to rain?" He looked over his shoulder at her. She didn't seem to hear him, her eyes squinting, scanning the horizon for the human troops promised by Alexi Mirkov. It was tempting to make a torch out of the nearby broken pieces of wood, but it may give away their position, so Pete settled on scooting a little closer to her.

"How's your arms doing?" He couldn't hide his guilt as he tried to see in the dim light if her bandages remained white or needed changing.

"Patty's busy." She didn't glance his way, her face still locked in determination. Pete sighed and sat with the wall at his back. Heavy silence settled between them until she finally said. "I'm not mad at you."

"Well, it is my fault." Cheek in hand, Pete continued to watch the flashes of light and the fires glitter through the city. For just a little bit, he allowed himself to pretend it was really fireworks and the smoke was from a hundred barbeques, the ashes just gray confetti. For just a bit, everything was ok and he was back home with-

"What's your meister like?" Patty asked, breaking his train of thought. She had meant to ask, but with things how they were... Pete shifted a bit, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"Her name was Tanya."

The past tense caught Patty's attention and for a moment, she turned her eyes from the dessert. "Was?"

"She died from an unrelated accident six months before all of this happened. I had just gotten back from leave for reassignment when all of this happened. We hadn't been together for too long, so it's ok." It wasn't, and he was sure she could hear it in his voice. "I'm pretty sure I'm doing what she'd want me to do."

His eyes left the city to Patty when she knelt next to him and leaned her chest against his shoulder. "This is me giving you a hug." Her arms still burnt and injured, actually hugging him was out of the question. She let out a small giggle before her eyes watered on their own, her smile aching her cheeks. "Patty just lost someone too, so…" She wanted so much to smile and to laugh in earnest, like before, but even when she tried all it brought up was tears. Pete wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back.

"I'm sorry." There was nothing else to say. Nothing could make it ok for them. Even if they were to somehow win this war, reclaim the destroyed city and kill every witch in its borders, neither Tanya nor Patty's loved one would come back. It was then he felt something cold and wet hit his hand.

"Patty, are you crying?"

"Only a little bit." She leaned back and rubbed her eyes against her shoulders. "I'm ok." There was another cold, wet drop, on his cheek this time. There was no way it was tears and Pete turned his face up to the sky to feel another drop on his forehead.

"I think it's raining."

"Wha, it's not time for rain here." Patty looked up as well. Sure enough, as soon as Patty had finished speaking, the rain began. The small trickle fell onto opened roofs and the faces of the fallen and for a moment, the flash of attacks stopped in its presence. The torrent that followed could not be ignored. Fires that had blazed for hours and had filled the air with ash now thickened the sky with smoke and steam. Even the heated brick of the ground was giving off vapor. Patty cringed, drawing closer to Pete. Every drop that landed on her arms was painful, the impact like little jabs to her burns.

"It's going to be alright, why don't you stay under here?" Pete pointed to a part of the wall where a section of a nearby building had fallen over, making a ledge.

"But then I can't watch for the back up, and that's my job!"

"It's fine. I can watch. Besides, it's really cold." He could already see her shiver. Patty opened her mouth to argue, but lost the words as she watched the rain run down Pete's face. Not normal, clear rain, but black drops like the dirty water in an artist's paintbrush cup.

"Uh, Patty?" She was still staring at him and he watched her expression turn from surprise to worry then to determination.

"I can handle it. We need to work hard and watch." It never rained black rain, something must be wrong. Her gaze turned back to the outline of Shibusen which faded mostly into the darkness, if it were not for one searchlight still functioning. "Please Kid, be ok."

* * *

Smoldering houses began to crumble in the force of the rain and the streets began to flood with its black wash, spilling from the higher sections of the city into the lower ones where battles still raged. Their efforts lit by the few remaining fires and street lamps, humans, weapons, and meisters worked through rising waters and the freezing pounding of the black downpour, pressing the witches ever southward. In the midst of the storm, however, Ox managed to smile.

"Looks like the weather's turning in our favor." Slick hands gripped the chilled metal of his lightning lance. The present storm was buzzing with approaching lightning and the moment it did, they'd be even more powerful. The pulse sent out from the first strike that ripped the air wasn't anything Ox had been expecting. When his breath caught in his throat, Harvar looked to Ox with concern.

"You're safe from any strikes." Not that Harvar seriously thought that was what had suddenly increased his meister's pulse, but being silent would express a lack of care and asking him would be redundant. He was sure Ox could see his questioning gaze in his metal.

"No, it's..." Ox turned to look to Shibusen's flickering spotlight. That first flash of lightning and clap of thunder hadn't been forced from the storm alone, or from anything they had done, but from the fearsome release of power from within their damaged school. It was foolish to have thought that simply forcing the witches from the city would end their fight, but this. This wave was nothing Ox had expected and even with his weak soul perception, it was enough to thicken the air in his lungs and weaken his knees.

"Don't be scared." Harvar's voice cut through the worried buzz of thoughts within Ox. "This is where this was leading to."

"You can't feel it, it's..." Ox shivered, partly from the cold rain and partly from the suffocating darkness pervading the moist air.

"A world ruled by a witch or kishin's no world we want to live in." He didn't need to say the other half, that a death here in battle would be better than surviving into a world of insanity and pain. "Knowing everyone else, if they can, they'll gather at the school. Kim will be there, there's no way she or Jackie will run."

"You're right." His focus turned from the foreboding pulse of darkness, Ox turned his thoughts to Kim and protecting her in what may be the most suicidal fight they would ever face. Harvar concentrated his energy, causing the end of his self to glow. "Let's go."

The next crack of thunder ushered in darkness. The last remaining spotlight left on Shibusen died and with it ended the glow of all the remaining street lamps or any light coming from houses still intact enough.

* * *

"Over here!" Black Star shouted to Tsubaki as he jogged over to a struggling fire. It was time. He might not have fancy soul perception, but Black Star could feel it. This was the moment, the final act of this horrible nightmare. There was no way he'd be stuck lost in the city and miss out on killing that snake faced bitch. Not after everything she had done. Not after she had had the audacity to manipulate him and dirty his hands in all of this. Oh no, darkness couldn't protect her. Black Star would light up the whole effin' sky if he needed to!

Tsubaki had just made it over when Black Star pulled from the fire a good piece of wood with a decent amount of flame still on it and in the light she could see his proud expression turn into slack jawed staring. She didn't need to follow his eyes to know he was staring at her chest. The rain had soaked her white top almost transparent. The cold didn't help either. His staring stopped with a quick bap to his head.

"Focus, Black Star. We have to get to Shibusen."

"Yeah, yeah I know, but you can't blame me for looking. I am a _man_, you know. A BIG man." The moment of normalcy in all of this was nice, but it faded away as soon as the flame on his torch died. He had forgotten about the pouring rain and now the fire it had come from had become just a pile of smoldering ash. He threw the wood to the ground in a yell of frustration.

The sound of splashing footsteps caught his attention, however, and he moved closer to Tsubaki, concentrating on their sounds. Two people from the number of splashes, approaching. He saw the glow first. Jackie was using her hand as a lantern, leading Kim by the hand.

"It'll be faster if we fly." The weapon hadn't noticed the other two as she continued to lead Kim through the streets.

"But we haven't found them yet."

"It won't be hard to find them in the air. Do you think a showoff like Ox could resist using lightning at a time like this?"

"You're right. Ok, let's go."

"Hey!" In a second, Jackie was a lantern and Kim pointed the flames at the source of the voice. The moment she recognized Black Star and Tsubaki she sighed and lowered her. "Whoa, watch where you point that."

"Sorry, you shouldn't sneak up on people in the dark."

"Sneaking is part of my job, it's not my fault you're not aware enough for me." He crossed his arms.

Tsubaki sighed at the exchange before slipping to Black Star's side. "Kim, we need help getting to Shibusen."

"I could get there on my own," Black Star began. "The water flows down, so I could just walk up and-" Tsubaki slipped a hand over Black Star's mouth and gave Kim an embarrassed apologetic expression.

"I heard that you were going to fly there. Is there room for Black Star?"

Kim thought for a second before nodding. "Yeah, there should be. Go ahead and transform and we'll get going."

It was then that Tsubaki let go of him and shook her head in Jackie's light. "I can't. It'll just be Black Star."

Black Star swallowed at that, having feared and partly known that it would come to this. Still, the idea of leaving Tsubaki here in the flooding city with no light in the midst of witches wasn't something he wanted to deal with. "You don't weight that much, I'm sure we could-"

"We can only bring one." Jackie said, having shifted back into her human form. "Any more than that and we won't be able to evade lightning strikes or attacks."

"Go." Tsubaki pulled Black Star into a hug. "I'll follow the flow of water and make my way on my own. They're going to need you, it's your turn to shine."

He hugged her back, taking a moment to remember this, her warmth in the cold rain, the steady beating of her heart, the unshakeable confidence in him, this warm and happy place in her arms. Besides revenge for all the wrongs done, he'd fight for this. Reluctantly he let go and stepped back. "Remember, stay alert. Stay safe, ok? I worked hard to make you better, it's your turn to play doctor when this is over."

Jackie changed into rocket mode and in her glow, he could see Tsubaki smile. "I promise."

Kim slipped onto Jackie and hovered enough for Black Star to grab the space left behind her and soon rose high enough to pull him from the ground. Tsubaki waved the whole time, until the light of Jackie's rocket trail had disappeared, leaving her again in isolated darkness.

* * *

"Please please please please please please." Maka's hands were trembling in the darkness as they clutched the fabric on their shoulders. "Please wake up. Wake up wake up wake up." It was taking all of her strength not to hyperventilate in the presence of this madness and darkness. When the spotlight on the school had failed, it left Maka alone with the still forms of her father and Stein, the two of them still lost in their resonance. They had to get up, they had to move. She, _it_ was coming and the thought of having to leave them scared her as much as the thought of what would happen if she stayed.

Rain leaked around her, dripping on them and she could feel the contamination of madness that had dirtied it from clear to black and kept it freezing despite the hot Nevada air. The sound of the water dripping and splashing was beginning to mingle with a sort of static in the air, white noise with an accompanying bass pulse and it was growing steadily louder as Maka felt Medusa near. Voices emerged like ghosts from the fog of the white noise, their words just distorted enough not to be able to discern.

"Please, Papa, wake up!" Maka pressed her weight against him to no avail. The voices were growing louder, the pulsing bass deeper, gasping and crying now joining into the air from unseen mouths. That's when Maka felt it. First it had been a drop of rain on the back of her neck, but after that was something warm, heavy and thick. Not like blood, but like molasses, sliding down her neck and back. A shaking hand touched the sticky substance and in a flash of lightning, Maka could see it drip like tar from her fingers. The high pitched drips of water hitting the collected water on the floor was soon replaced with a heavy smack as the substance began to ooze from the ceiling and onto the floor, spreading out in every direction.

Unable to contain a scream Maka grabbed both mens' arms and shook them harder. Another flash of lightning and Maka could swear the black stuff was moving on its own accord, lifting and twisting to the pulse of madness in the air. Lost in panic, Maka wrapped her arms around her father, sobbing into his chest. She had come close to death so many times, but to die like this, swallowed by liquid insanity, it would have been better to have died before, saved from this nightmare. The blackness touched her leg and curled its self up her calf and Maka kicked frantically to get it off. When it reached and inched past her knee caps, she screamed.

"Maka, it's too early for breakfast." Spirit groaned, holding his head.

"Papa! Get up, get up, pick me up, please we have to go!"

"What happened to the lights? How long was I gone?" A flash of lightning showed his panic stricken daughter's face, the black substance in her hair and falling down her cheek. "Stein, get up!" He smacked Stein's cheek, earning a punch to the gut in return.

"I'm awake, you idiot. Get up, we have to leave." Stein stood and grabbed Spirit's wrist, Spirit's hand holding Maka's in turn. The professor knew these halls and didn't require light to navigate them to the stairwell. At the bottom of the stairs, Maka's hand was pulled from her father's.

She would have screamed when she felt an arm grab her around the waist, but another hand had covered her mouth, pulling her further from Stein and Spirit and back into the school. Frantically, Maka kicked and struggled but her movement stopped the moment when she heard his voice near her ear.

"Oi, what's wrong with you? Just calm down." A sob wracked her throat, not from panic or sadness but in joy. When she stopped struggling, Soul let go of her only for Maka to turn and hug him.

"I thought you were gone! W-where did you go? I had to use my dad because you weren't there and I was so-" He put two fingers on her lips to quiet her.

"You don't want the witch to hear you, do you? C'mon." He took her hand and she squeezed it, swallowing the lump in her throat as Soul lead her deeper into the school and down another set of stairs. The thick black ooze hadn't reached this area yet and the sounds in the air quieted, but the rain water ran down the steps. At the bottom, it had flooded up to her ankles. The dripping rain here was beginning to wash the thick blackness from her. Down this hall there was one lantern lit and in its glow Maka could clearly see him. Any worries that this was a trick of magic or insanity went right out the door as she watched Soul reach up and grab the lantern. And then he smiled, looked her right in the eyes and smiled. Before she could stop herself and despite their situation, Maka moved forward and kissed him.

Instead of the surprise she might have expected from him, Soul kissed back with a strange hunger to it. His freehand reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb resting on her chin, urging it to lower and allow him more access and this boldness was what caused Maka to step back, red faced.

"What? Too much?" He laughed. Maka huffed and crossed her arms.

"No, just doesn't seem like the right place and time for something like that." Strange, she had always assumed that he'd have been more shy about all of it.

"Whatever, we have to keep moving." And he walked on, holding the glass protected lantern up high as they continued down the dark hall. Once the water had begun to reach the middle of her shins, Maka began to worry.

"Where are we going? We should regroup with Stein and Papa. If you're here, that means everyone else is too, right?" He didn't reply. "Where did you go, before? Why would you heal me and then run off?" Still silence. "Soul? What's going on?"

He stopped then and opened a door. "All the answers are in here."

This was one of the upper classmen rooms Maka had visited once. A lecture hall that had stairs leading down from the door, rather than up like their own classroom. Beside the black board was a wide ceiling to floor window built into the school's massive base. The view of the city on a typical day would have been beautiful. From here they could see the sparks of colored light as the battle against the witch army continued. A lightning strike lit the skyline, showing the ever rising columns of smoke and the crumbling skyline of her home. There was a hole in the classroom's ceiling near the lectern that was steadily filling the room with water. It didn't stop Soul from beginning to walk down the steps.

"Is it safe? What's down there?" Maka asked from the top of the steps. Like before, he didn't say anything. "Soul answer me!"

He just kept walking. The water reached Soul's knees as he continued down the steps, the light of the lantern illuminating books and sheets of paper floating forgotten on the black surface. Maybe whatever he wanted to show her was in the water somewhere. Whatever it was, she wasn't going to find out by staying at the top of the stairs, no matter how much her instincts told her not to go. The inky water reached Soul's waist once he reached the bottom. Maka gasped as the water reached her own, the coldness causing a quick shiver.

"O-okay, so what is it you wanted to show me?" His response was a smirk before dunking the lantern into the water, extinguishing its light. "Soul?"

"Where am I, Maka? Can you see me?" The familiar push of panic came up when she heard the distorted humor in his voice. With the natural echo in the room and the sound of the pouring water, it was almost impossible to pinpoint his exact location in the darkness.

"S-soul, I don't understand."

"Don't tell me you've never played tag? Marco Polo? Why don't you cheat and use perception?"

He was being childish, this was no time for games! Maka focused her perception and scanned the room, but she couldn't see him anywhere. "Soul?"

A sudden flash of lightning showed him standing less than two inches in front of her, his mouth pulled up into a wide, jagged smile. Before she could open her mouth, his hands gripped her shoulders and pressed her against the window. "You talk way too much, no wonder you drove the poor boy insane."

Maka didn't fight back initially, too shocked from what had just happened to move. This wasn't her mind playing tricks on her. Soul was here. That was his body, his voice, but there had been no soul within him. As he pressed his hips against her's, Maka's eyes watered, her mind going back to earlier. She had been sure she was dying, or dead, and then she woke up fine. Could he have...was it possible?

"He didn't even think twice before caving." His lips, Soul's lips, brushed her ear. His voice, but clearly not his words. "You were the last thing on his mind."

Maka's first attempt to speak failed in her mouth, but she blinked back the tears and tried again, her words quiet and hardly audible over the sound of the water that still climbed around them. "What have you done to him?"

"I sent his soul to where it was born from. Darkness. You could join him if you want and leave your pretty little body in my hands. It was very expensive, you know. It would be a waste to destroy it trying to fight Medusa."

That alone felt worse than any pain visited on her yet, confirming her worst fears. Soul had exchanged himself for her, not just his body but his soul. This wasn't a matter of insanity, his soul was literally missing, leaving a ghost, a shell behind, puppeteered by this monster somehow. For her sake, for her life.

"And...and if I say no?"

"Why would you say no? You know I'm right. Fighting here is suicide. I promise that you two will inhabit the same little corner of hell together, just say yes. Or I might just disappear and you'll never see this pretty face again. Just say yes. There's no more duty where you'll go. No right or wrong." His hand touched her thigh under the water, running his stolen fingers up to the edge of her tattered skirt.

In that moment, Maka began to weigh the options. There still had been no sign of Kid, and without Shinigami-Sama, it seemed unlikely that even with a proper army that they could take out Medusa. The terror Maka had felt just in the witch's recent movement had sent her into panic, the witch's presence enough to corrupt water and manifest insanity into thick tar. She might be able to use her father, but it wasn't the same as using Soul. Without Soul...without him even victory would be meaningless. Even if they won and somehow their home remained intact, it would be empty and she would have to live with his sacrifice all her life. She took a deep breath to keep from sobbing as her mind replayed all that she had endured in hope of seeing him again, how she had dared to dream that this would have ended any other way. And then his last words to her, in those moments her life was fading. He had loved her.

That was what made the decision clear. Soul had saved her so that she could live and fight. He loved and believed in the Maka that faced the impossible, he had cared for the Maka that had once believed she was invincible, the one that studied hard and practiced to protect the innocent. If she gave up now, that Maka would have died in that hallway and Soul's gift to her would mean nothing. Whether the fight against Medusa was suicide or not didn't matter, what mattered was what was done and how she lived and running away into whatever empty promises this demon offered, or into the night would shame everything they had stood for as weapon and meister. And...no matter how painful life would be after this, she would have to keep walking.

Still, the choice didn't make it easier to speak. Once the words left her lips, it would be over. Hoping for a happy ending would be over. Soul was gone and she had never had the chance to tell him that he was loved. With a deep breath, Maka's eyes drifted to the ceiling, unable to look at his face should lightning strike.

"No, I won't go with you."

"Stubborn and selfish. I knew it." He sneered and Maka bit her lip to keep from showing how much it hurt to even hear his voice now. His hands gripped her shirt and pushed Maka down into the water. "Stupid girl, stupid mortals, always so difficult!" He pulled her from the water, bringing her face to his. "Say yes."

Maka sputtered black water in his face. "No." And again she was thrust under the surface for longer this time. When he jerked her back up, he hit her hard against the window.

"Say yes! Give me your soul, give me your body!"

A lightning strike lit the room and Maka could see him, but it was different now. The affection she felt towards his appearance, all emotional connection ended in that one spark of light. This wasn't Soul, it wasn't even Soul's body anymore. Not his hands, not his voice or eyes or hair. It was a shell, a ghost. The demon hadn't been prepared for Maka to actually pull her fist back and punch him hard in the face. His grip on her failed and this time it was Maka who grabbed his shirt and pushed him under the water.

He struggled under her, but Maka held him firmly. These..these weren't his shoulders under her hands. Soul was already gone. They weren't his desperate gasps the few times he had managed to get high enough. Soul was already dead. And she'd be damned if she let this monster run around with his body to do what it wanted! How dare he! How dare he come here and do this, thinking that she'd just give in? How dare he desecrate Soul's memory, using his body against her? Smiling fake smiles, kissing her with fake passion. Die. He'd die, he'd drown and die. That demon didn't deserve such a beautiful body to use, Soul wasn't a toy or tool! He had been a person. Maka's strength faltered. He had been an amazing person... She was supposed to have made him into a death scythe, now she was feeling his struggle slow under her. They were supposed to be together.

"_I just wanted to spend a weekend with you."_

That fight. Over the boardwalk or studying, all those days ago. It brought Maka's hands to her face as she openly sobbed, her knees giving out and sinking to her shoulders in the cold water. Soul burst up from the water's surface, gasping for air and the moment his lungs filled, he grabbed her arm.

"I promised that fool that I'd heal you. I never promised I wouldn't kill you."

"Then you'll never get anything from me." Maka managed weakly.

"I can always eat your soul."

"Put her down." Stein shouted from the top of the classroom steps. It was easy to tell the situation, his perception letting him easily see the hollow young man in front of him in the lightning strike. Soul growled and pulled Maka closer to his face.

"Take a good look, you'll never see me again."

"I'll find you, I promise you." She stared right into his empty, narrowed red eyes, swearing it with every fiber in her body. "I'll take away what you've stolen."

The demon just frowned, tossing Maka hard towards the first row of seats before grabbing the podium and throwing it at the window. It shattered the glass and the water rushed out, taking him with it. Maka clutched the first row writing ledge until the water had all rushed out, leaving her on her knees on the floor. Stein was by her side in a moment.

"Are you injured?" She just shook her head and he helped her stand. "If you can't fight, I can find a hiding place for you."

"No. No, I'm fighting." Maka wiped her face. There was too much rage within her not to.

"We need to go around the side of the building. She's made it to the first floor." Stein took her hand, trying not to think about his own guilt in all that had happened.

* * *

Outside, on the grand landing, Spirit was pacing. Stein had insisted that going in by himself was the best idea because he could track Maka with perception, but as a father, it didn't make waiting any easier. He should have held onto her a little tighter. If anything was wrong, if she was hurt.. That was when Ox and Harvar made it to the top of the stairs.

"What are you kids doing here? It's dangerous."

"We're here to help fight." Ox managed between pants for breath. "Even a deathscythe like you can't beat someone like her…on your own."

Spirit couldn't help a small grin. Shibusen students were truly the best in the world. "If things get out of hand, don't be too proud to run."

Ox would have replied, but the familiar streak of Jackie's flame trail caught his eye. "My angel is on her way! Now I really can fight!" He left Harvar and ran over to where he thought Kim would land only for Black Star to land on top of him instead.

"I would have been fine, but it's good to land on something soft and squishy." A short distance away, Kim landed, allowing Jackie to shift back into her human form.

"Who's that?" Jackie spotted another fire glow heading their way. Given the continued down pour the fire was either from a weapon or magic. Spirit turned his attention to it as well but relaxed when he made out Patty's silhouette just a few steps behind Pete.

"North humans are in!" Patty cheered when she got to the top.

"Way to go." Black Star bounded over to her. "Still don't think it's a good idea for you to be here with those burns. Are you going to head butt Medusa?"

"If I have to! I'm going to see Kid again!"

Kim edged closer, now able to see how Patty's arms were bandaged. "What happened?"

"I over heated." Pete explained, looking at the fire coming from his palm, casting light for the moment. The remorse on his face, Patty's silly determination...Kim swallowed. Even with the given circumstances, it was hard to tell how everyone would react, but she couldn't let Patty go untreated. Not when he knew what it was like to be burned and not when they'd need all the help they could get. After this war, if they survived, there'd be a price to pay. Undoubtedly she'd be lumped in with all the other witches and probably punished, maybe executed. Still, Kim gently took Patty's hands.

"Please, please don't freak out. When I'm done you guys can be mad, but I really want to do this."

Kim whispered the incantation and as her hands began to glow, Jackie moved in closer in case any of their friends changed their minds on how they felt about her. When it was over Patty pulled Kim into an instant bear hug.

"You're a witch?" Black Star asked the obvious. "You're a witch, but you go to Shibusen?"

"You can ask all the questions you want, later." Jackie frowned at him. "We're on your side or she wouldn't have helped Patty."

Kim slipped off her heat gloves and gave them to Patty. "Here, this should keep you from getting hurt."

"But what about you?" Patty tilted her head.

"I can just heal myself, it's ok."

The air changed when Maka and Stein walked to them from the side of the school, the dead serious look on both their faces bringing the others to the seriousness of the situation in hand. They all gathered around Stein the moment he stopped, and awaited his instructions.

"I'm glad to see you all are well, but there's little chance of any of us surviving this fight. If you want to live, you're welcome to leave now." No one moved, though a few nervous glances were exchanged. "Patty are you acting as weapon or meister?"

"Meister, Pete is my weapon." She ruffled his short red hair.

"Flamethrower, sir." He clarified nervously before Stein bothered to ask.

"Patty, you and Kim will use your flame based weapons against long range attacks. Ox, you and Maka will clear a path up the center."

"Where's Soul?" Black Star asked, looking around. "She can't do anything unless she's got a weapon."

"She's using me, for now." Spirit said with a mix of pride, and a bit of scolding towards Black Star for interrupting.

When Maka's eyes fell to the ground and her fists clenched Black Star swallowed. "What happened to him? He's coming right?"

She didn't look up and through gritted teeth Maka replied. "No, now shut up."

"I don't see Tsubaki here." Stein said and that was enough to quiet Black Star. "You and I will attack the witch directly with soul pulses."

"Fine." Black Star turned, crossing his arms. No way that anything serious had happened to Soul, right? He and Maka probably just got into a fight, or maybe the dumb ass twisted his ankle in the dark and couldn't fight? That had to be it because... that fist fight was the last thing they had done. The things they had yelled, the things he had said to Soul. He didn't want it to be the last things said.

"Maka?" Patty tugged on her sleeve. "Can you see Kid up there? Is he ok?"

"Patty, I..." She sighed, not really up to looking for fear of finding nothing again. But that pleading look on Patty's face, Maka could only shake her head before looking high at the building. "He's there, but it's weak. There might be something blocking it but I can barely see it. But he's still there."

It meant that he hadn't been eaten by the witch like his father. It meant there still might be a chance, and for a brief moment hope spread over the group.

"Shibusen." Medusa chuckled from the doorway. "Of all the weapons in the world and all the students it had harbored, this is all it could offer me?"

As Stein had assumed, the witch had the same black blood weapon in hand that he had fought against in Italy. Still, his ability to predict and set up a proper battle strategy didn't offer him any confidence. The weapon had been fearsome in the hands of its weak meister, and the witch's vector attacks had been powerful on their own. Together, with the added power of insanity, that even now pulsed heavily against him, it threatened to bring terror to the surface.

"Get ready, remember your roles." Stein swallowed. Each weapon transformed and Black Star stepped to Stein's side.

In an instant, the fight for the world had begun.

A/N: **The next chapter is the last!** Writing this story has been so exciting and wonderful! Thank you to everyone who's followed the story so far! I hope everyone's had fun!

About Kim, Jackie, Ox and Havar, I know their presence seems a little sudden, but it will all be explained. The wonderful and talented Sani is going to be writing a companion piece for Beloved Helpless that will chronicle what they had gone through during the days leading up to confiscation and after, as well as explain just where Kilik is. Their place in the ending of BH is so important, but I just couldn't include them during the rest of the story. Following the characters I have has stretched the fic well past the 100K word mark and if I had included the B team into it as well would have made the story twice as long. It's going to be great!


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